


‘C’: OF CLIFFS AND COMFORT

by Alexandria_Lin



Series: LOVE FROM 'A' TO 'Z' [3]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Love, M/M, Maru-MA, Nostalgia, Romance, Sweet, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Lin/pseuds/Alexandria_Lin
Summary: ‘That moment … it happened in the most dramatic of ways. It’s like one of those iconic scenes you see in movies or read about in books. Like, the balcony scene in ‘Romeo and Juliet’ — or is that too cheesy a comparison?’Because — seriously! It pulls on our heartstrings, every time!But, what does it mean to Yuuri and Wolf? What do the Royal Couple think about it?
Relationships: Wolfram von Bielefeld/Shibuya Yuuri
Series: LOVE FROM 'A' TO 'Z' [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035765
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: Maru-MA Royal Couple





	1. Of Cliffs and Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I do NOT own ‘Maru-MA’ / ‘Kyou Kara Maou!’. (Um … obviously, right? I need Novel 18 and MORE Yuuram, so bad!) All rights and property belong to Takabayashi Tomo, etc etc.
> 
> Because I’m desperate to get away for a vacation but can’t have one, I’ll give Yuuri one instead! And since we’re exiting 2020 and coming into 2021, I thought … why not send Yuuri on a train down memory lane? Complete with stops at Shibuya and Harajuku stations!  
> Huh? Plot? Eh? What? Too much information? Ah, well …!

Cliffs, a geological formation of vertical rock exposure, resulting from natural phenomena such as weathering and erosion. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but my knowledge in geography is only average. Apparently, though, a cliff is also the critical edge in life’s biggest moments — at least, according to Murata, it is.

I am Shibuya Yuuri — and whether Harajuku is in disadvantage has got nothing to do with me. As if running an entire Kingdom in another world as the 27th Maou — a job entrusted to me after I got flushed down a public toilet! — isn’t enough for this high school boy … I really don’t have the time to worry about that place where I don't even get off the train. My best friend Murata and I are at a cafe to grab a bite, after a long session of hard training with my grass-lot baseball team, the Dandelions. Although I’m not fond of spending time in a room where the air-conditioning is on full blast, it’s a relief to get indoors, away from the summer heat.

Earlier, one of our team members had seemed a bit down during practice. As captain, I am naturally concern for my teammates’ welfare— the performance of the team depends on not just the physical but also the emotional well-being of each of its member, y’know. Even that aside, we’re all friends on the team — friends look out for each other. So when Murata and I, as team manager and captain respectively, went and asked him about it, he told us that he’s currently steep in dilemma between taking over the family business as is expected of him, or make his own way in life. The problem is he doesn’t particularly know what he wants to do, nor does he particularly care about the family business. Understandably, going on a journey of self-discovery is a daunting idea, but he’s afraid that shouldering the responsibility of leading the family business without passion would ruin its prospects and undo all the hard work of his family. In the end, all we could do was listen. We’re just high school kids, after all — never mind the fact that I’m the King in another world and Murata is the current owner of the soul that once belonged to the revered Great Sage of Double-Black. Nevertheless, he smiled at us gratefully, seeming to feel a lot lighter after talking about it.

“Gosh, that’s a really tough decision he’s got to make. I mean … it’s going to determine the course of his life and all, isn’t it…?” I say, still thinking about the issue while we take our seats in the cafe. I split my grilled chicken bun into two and give one half to Murata, as he does the same and hands me half of his steamed custard bun. “I wonder … if I were in his shoes, would I be able to make the right choice…? I think I might collapse under all that pressure! What would be the right or wrong choice in this situation, anyway?”

“What are you talking about? You’ve already made your decision in a situation that is equally tough, if not more, haven’t you?” he responds, lifting an eyebrow at me. “If you think about it — it’s expected of you to become King of Shin Makoku — but you could have chosen to simply leave the care of the Kingdom to others and just focus on what you want, like baseball all the time, right? Instead, you freely and willingly chose, fully of your own volition, to actively rule for the sake of peace. You fully embrace your responsibilities, and you’ve even started your own family there! And that makes all the difference. Likewise, our friend will come to his own decision … in time. He just needs to hit the cliff, y’know.”

“I guess you have a point …” I say, thinking about it as I munch on my chicken bun. “But what has a cliff got to do with anything?”

“Oh … you know … life’s biggest decisions are best made at the edge of a cliff — that moment of truth, of absolute clarity. It’s the critical turning point on which everything hinges.” His expression is thoughtful as he takes a sip from his cup of coffee. “The best stories are riddled with cliffhangers, aren’t they? Big moments that define the storyline. Always pulling taut your heartstrings — evoking strong emotions and drawing you in with the characters!”

“Huh? I’m not sure I follow you …” As always, Murata’s odd deep philosophical moments leave my muscle-brain working overtime. For one minute there, I thought he was talking about the contemplation of suicide by jumping off a cliff! My heart, which some have called naive, crumbles, knowing that there are those who have been driven to such measures.

“Hmm, one way of looking at it is to think about the clear view you get from atop a cliff. That clarity … the realisation that everything depends on that critical decision — one misstep, one poorly made decision, can cost you everything to the point of no return, right? That’s bound to set you in tune with your true feelings and bring about inner peace. A completely calm and clear mind. That’s the ideal state of mind to make life-changing decisions, wouldn’t you say?”

Clarity? Inner peace? Calm state of mind? Are we talking about meditation and/or religious practices? Although I’m a Buddhist, I’m not overly familiar or particularly knowledgeable about that. Come to think about it, is that why lots of holy places are high up in the mountains and cliffs and such? Even Shinou’s Shrine back in Shin Makoku is at the summit of the mountain.

“You’re talking about it figuratively, right?” I check, starting on my custard bun.

“Both. Who is to say it doesn’t work literally?” He gives me a knowing look.

“Yeah — except that, in that dangerous situation, wouldn’t most people be panicking or paralysed with fear? I’d probably be too busy freaking out to make _any_ decisions, let alone good ones!”

“But you weren’t, though,” says Murata, leaning forwards with a rare serious and intense expression on his face. “You were yelling out, making sure everyone else was safe, even if you were about to fall! You knew that, but you still insisted that everyone else is taken care of, first!”

I flush, unsure whether he’s scolding or praising me. Damn, has he been taking lessons from Wolfram? That would be typical for the stubborn pretty boy to scold and praise all in one breath or with just a single gesture. And — why am I thinking of Wolf, anyway…?

I know what he’s referring to. That was the first time Murata had travelled with me to the other world. We were somewhere in the territory of Small Shimaron when the severed left arm of Lord Weller Conrart was used to activate the End of the Land, despite it being the wrong key. In the ensuing chaos, in which I had no choice but to summon my power to protect all those people from imminent death, I had found myself dangling from the edge of a cliff, over a newly formed crevasse from the earthquake caused by the thing sealed in that box. I probably would have — no — I’m sure I definitely would have fallen into that crevasse — my left hand had already given out, and the fingers of my right had been slipping off, one after another, until that one last finger was giving out as well — if—if it hadn’t been for — y’know — Wolf … my fiance, who had travelled all the way into dangerous human territories, just to find me…! I get a little bit emotional, just remembering that moment.

“Eh? But that’s got nothing to do with my decision to take up the King’s responsibility …” I laugh sheepishly to get rid of the awkward tension. “I mean, I had already made that decision long before that point, you know. So the cliff didn’t contribute to that critical decision, as you call it.”

“Maybe not, but it _did_ give you inner clarity of a different kind, didn’t it?” He grins at me cheerfully.

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, flushing and avoiding his gaze. We both know that I know perfectly well what he’s talking about …

Nearly twenty hours later and I still can’t clear my mind of that particular memory, of hanging off that cliff, playing it over and over again. It’s gotten to a point that I feel like blaming Murata for my lack of concentration, as I face down the essay composition the class is tasked to complete within half an hour. ‘Comfort’. We’re suppose to write an entire essay from the single word prompt, ‘comfort’! And all I can think about is that cliff. Seriously, how messed up is that? Who takes comfort from a cliff? Ah … think — think, Yuuri!

What to write about…? What would a person think about when looking for comfort? I don't think I want to write about a luxurious lifestyle, surrounded by decadence. Once, when we were in Svelera, Gwendal had asked in puzzlement why I didn’t choose to simply revel in hedonism and leave the affairs of state to my underlings, as he had phrased it. Even now, after being King for some time, I still can’t imagine living that sort of life — I’m still just your average baseball kid, who just so happens to carry the responsibility of Maou! So, not that kind of comfort. About a favourite teddy bear? Gwendal would be overwhelmed if I were to dedicate that essay to him! A smart kindergartener would probably write that essay better than I can, though. Comfort … comfort …. What does comfort mean to me, personally? My Mom’s home-cooked meals? Surely that…? Baseball? That’s got to be it, right…? Cuddling up with my dogs, Cianfrocco and Zinter? Ah … it’s no good — I’m still not satisfied with any of those!

I close my eyes and try to concentrate. The thing is, I keep seeing that one single image in my mind — the image of brilliant emerald green eyes, that remind me of the bottom of the lake, looking down at me from above the cliff. Lord von Bielefeld Wolfram had given me such a look of determination and confidence — not the kind of confidence that is plain cockiness, but the kind that inspires strength and courage — as he pulled me up. And hadn’t I felt comfort, in that moment and in those that followed? Warm, gentle comfort — beyond anything else I’ve ever felt before — so much so that I was completely overwhelmed and broke down helplessly. That’s it, isn’t it…? A feeling of peace washes over me — just thinking about that moment on the cliff makes me feel warm inside. Yes, that must be it. I find myself furiously writing away — with the twenty minutes I have left — drawing from my experience on that fateful cliff. I elaborate on about comfort being the warm feeling of being loved and cared for; about how comfort is manifested in many different ways to each individual, whether it’s a favourite stuffed animal, or a bowl of curry, or a favourite pastime, or … a cliff (though I’m not actually writing this last one down); about how true comfort is really the sentiment and emotion attached to said manifestation. Heh, who would have thought Shibuya Yuuri can be such a sappy romantic?!

By the end of it, I feel the impulse to pen out an acknowledgement to credit Wolfram for my essay — though that would probably raise too many questions I don’t feel like answering! So I guess I shouldn’t be surprise then that — a few days later, in the middle of class, after getting back my essay with a good passing grade — I look down to take some notes and find, to my mild exasperation, I’d absently scribbled ‘ **my most important person** (taisetsuna hito)’ at the bottom of my essay on comfort. Ah, geez … someday, this habit of mine is going to ruin some mightily important and irreplaceable document, and get me into a load of trouble.

I smile fondly to myself, as I remember that Wolf has somehow taken after this habit of mine, having been around me so much — though, I guess the difference is that, no matter how carelessly or inattentively he does it, his handwriting will still be elegant and praiseworthy. Like that time when he had absently written down notes in the only copy of ‘I am a Poison Lady from the Countryside’ — but that’s another story.

I trace my finger over those words …. It’s permanent ink … still, I can easily cover them up with correction tape … but I decide not to. That would be a waste of scarce resources, right? As a good citizen, I should be utilising limited resources responsibly. Besides, it’s not like I have to show this to anyone, since it’s already been graded and I’ve gotten it back. And it’s not something incriminating or anything like that, is it?

Oh, OK — I’ll admit that I don’t _want_ to make it disappear, because that would feel wrong. I sigh to myself … when did I get so cheesy? Then again, when am I _not_ , especially when it’s got something to do with Wolf …? Ugh! Shibuya Yuuri, stop acting like a love-struck character in a high school romantic comedy! Huh? Whoa, whoa, wait — did I just use the ‘L’ word?! I’m normally not one to so openly discuss those feelings like that …. But — ah — why am I even fighting it? I can’t help the blush I feel creeping up my face.

And … I’m blushing again, now that we’re back in Shin Makoku, and I’m face-to-face with that angel-like bishounen who somehow commandeered my schoolwork, even from a whole other world away! Not surprisingly, he’s complaining about my latest absence, to which I just grin a little stupidly. I’m just glad to be back!

Once the usual chaos of our return has calmed somewhat, we get down to the business of running the Kingdom. After checking and making sure that no earth-shattering crisis has arisen, I allow Gunter and the others to bring me up to speed with everything while I was away. I spend half the day listening to and going through reports on the usual stuff about taxes and economic performances of the various different regions, social welfare of my people, our diplomatic relations, and so on, and so on, and so on. It can get quite dreary — but it is my job, after all. Well — a lot of it is already well taken care of by my excellent, reliable and trustworthy team — so, mainly what’s required of me is to make final decisions and give them the green-light and my standard ‘deal with it appropriately’ response, and contribute ideas where necessary.

I call for a tea break, when my trusty G-Shock buddy ticks three o’clock in the afternoon. We must have done a good job today, because even the workaholic Lord von Voltaire joins us for a cup of tea, cookies, and cakes with cream!

“Thanks!” I say, taking the delicate teacup Conrad offers me. “Ah, I just missed this opportunity to improve my tea-making skills! I’m sure I almost got it right, the last time.” Beside me, Wolfram makes a soft sound in his throat, as he receives his own cup. “Hey!” I elbow him lightly. “I thought you liked it! Didn’t you have, like, three cups of it?”

“Since you already made the tea anyway, I thought it best not to let it go to waste,” he says casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” Conrad laughs. “You’ll have many more opportunities to make us tea. And I’m sure Wolfram likes it just fine, if you’re the one making it.”

I think he’s teasing his younger sibling, but there are two pairs of cheeks burning as a result of it. Ah, is this what they call ‘to kill two birds with one stone’? No — wait — that’s not really the right way to use that phrase, is that?

Before Wolf or I could protest, Gunter cuts in with a dramatic, “Oh, yes! Anyone would find themselves overcome with delight for a sip of tea made by His Majesty’s own benevolent hands!” He’s like a doting grandmother whose grandchild can do no wrong!

I laugh and just shake my head. I follow Wolf and let myself flop comfortably on the couch next to him. Ah, this is nice, with all of us here like this …. After all those crazy adventures we’ve been through … sometimes it’s easy to forget just how precious moments like these are. Just to feel his comforting warmth next to me … so cosy …. Those thoughts — our cliff moments, as I have come to call it in my head — that have been constantly on my mind these last few days … they come back to me now.

I take this opportunity to study my fiance up close. Every master artist would envy such a chance to observe this angelically handsome Prince, if only to capture his likeness inadequately in a masterpiece. His dazzling golden blond hair that makes it seem like his face is emitting a glowing aura …. His stunning emerald green eyes that make me think of the bottom of a lake …. His white skin so fair and clear that it seems translucent …. The well defined angles of his features …. The way his long and wavy lashes flutter with every flicker of his eyelids …. Or how his delicate lips curve around the rim of his teacup …. Heck, even the way he drinks tea cries out aristocratic elegance! His slender neck … and the movements of his throat with each swallow — or at least what can be seen above his collar …. His posture, even when casually lounging on a comfy couch, is poised and dignified. Yet, no master artist — prodigy turtle or otherwise — can adequately capture the perfection that is Wolfram von Bielefeld, because his greatest beauty is what lies within … that fiery heart of his, that I have come to cherish above all else…!

“What?” Wolf arches an eyebrow at me.

“Huh?” I blink, coming out of my reverie.

“Why are you staring like an idiot?”

Across from where we’re sitting, Murata chortles. “Never thought you’d be caught staring, Shibuya?! Don’t worry, Lord von Bielefeld, there isn’t anything on your face!”

“Hmph, maybe not. But there is on _yours_ ,” he says to me.

He puts down his tea and proceeds to brush the crumbs off my face and dust off the front of my jacket. Even though his movements are brisk and efficient to get me neat and tidy, I can almost hear the crackling of fire from how hot my face has become, especially when he starts sweeping over the region of my crotch — and no, he did _not_ set me literally on fire, if that’s what you’re wondering. No — no, I’m probably just embarrassed from Murata’s teasing — yeah, that’s right! I tell myself it’s got nothing to do with Wolf’s proximity — my privates are totally not responding — definitely … probably … maybe …. Gah! Quick — think about baseball! Balls … and … bases … and … home runs …. Gah!!! _Not_ helpful! Not helpful at all! I groan into my hands.

“Pffft!” That’s Murata, trying not to burst out laughing at my reactions. Even Conrad is fighting laughter. Conversely, the overprotective Gunter completely misunderstands and starts chewing Wolf out for being too rough with poor delicate me!

“Stop squirming about! This is unbecoming of the Demon King …” I kind of tune Wolf’s scolding out, as I focus on cooling off my blush and ignoring Murata.

Once he’s satisfied, Wolf sits back and picks up his teacup. When he sips on the hot tea, his expression relaxes, as if all the stress is ebbing away to reveal a soft look of tranquillity. It’s like a fine commercial for wholesome tea-drinking! I can almost see the promotion tag line: ‘INSTANT STRESS RELIEF - drink [etc] tea for the peace and clarity of a healthy mind!’. That company would find their profits sky-rocketing for sure! Except that … the therapeutic effects of the ‘instant stress relief’ would come from gazing upon the heavenly vision that they call the Angel of Love, rather than actually drinking the tea. No kidding — the powers of a super-bishounen is truly beyond comprehension — he doesn’t even need to do anything … just one glimpse and terminally ill patients on the cusp of death are revived back to full health! Hmm …. What was it again that Murata and I were talking about, during our cafe chat on cliffs…? Calm and clear mind … inner peace and clarity … I wonder …

“Really, Yuuri, is something the matter? What is it?”

Oops, again, huh? “Wolf … let’s go on a vacation!” I smile at him hopefully.

He looks at me incredulously. “Yuuri, you only just got back, and already you’re thinking of running off again?! You do realise how much work you have to catch up on?”

“I know, I know …!” I whine. “It’s just that … well … it’s summer!”

Wolf just gives me a look that says, ‘So?’.

“You know … it’s the season to be active and running around having fun! That’s when the Koshien hits! And even if you’re not a baseball fan, other sports peak in summer, too! Like football — the Bundesliga — right?” I turn to Murata for support.

“Nope, the Bundesliga typically ends late May,” my football-loving friend replies, “so, technically, that’s still spring.”

“Ahh, the English Premier League, then?”

“Also ends in May!”

“Ehh! OK, maybe football is a bad example. The Olympics, then. That’s like the biggest international sports event, and it happens in the summer!”

“Hey, what do you mean football is a ‘bad example’?!” Murata protests indignantly. “You’re forgetting the FIFA World Cup!!! That takes place in the summer!”

“Oh, yeah! How could I have forgotten?!” I slap a hand to my forehead. “Germany lost to Brazil 0-2 in the finals, last summer, didn’t they?” I recall that clearly because Murata had called about it while I was in the middle of my bath, and my Mom had simply barged in on me. But — ah — that’s bad, Yuuri! I had spoken without thinking — as usual — and now Murata looks depressed. “Hey, hey — don’t look so sad! I’m sorry — I’m sorry!” I stumble forwards to pat his shoulder in comfort. “Look on the bright side — they’ll do better next time, right? It’s human nature to learn from mistakes and improve, right? They have four years to do that! Then they’re going to have a better chance next time! Besides, you’ve got an entire strategy worked out to keep Itou-san playing in order to get around the jinx, right?”

Murata gives me a small smile to show that my thoughtlessness is forgiven. I collapse back onto the couch, next to Wolf.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” huffs Wolfram, “but I think I get the picture, Yuuri. I’m sure Conrart can help you arrange sports matches to keep you occupied this summer.” He looks a little displeased at this. Because he isn’t really into baseball, he probably wouldn’t be able to oversee things as well as Conrad would be able to. He tosses his head and looks up at the ceiling. “Whatever. As long as you don’t take it as a chance to go gallivanting with other men or women behind my back.” He frowns, and I have to resist the urge to massage the creases in his brows. Instead, I give his free hand a quick squeeze, as a sign of quiet reassurance, and quickly withdrawing before anyone starts making fun — what can I say, I’m a shy guy by nature who got a Japanese upbringing of modesty. “I suppose … it isn’t entirely fair to expect you to completely forego such norms you’ve been brought up with.”

Even frowning and huffing like this he is so kind. But he’s getting the wrong idea, though. Ah, man … this muscle-brain simply spouted off sports references, and now Wolf is confused over my true intention! He thinks I’m restless, and just want to run around and play …

“Eh? But it’s not just sports that is big in summer,” I say quickly. “People spend time with their loved ones…!” At this, my face heats up again. “You know … bonding with family and friends…! They do all sorts of activities together, like camping or holidays abroad…! So … I thought … ma—maybe we can do that, too…?” I gulp nervously and take his hand in mine.

He thinks about it for a bit. I hope he’s not cooking up a lecture on how I’m being an irresponsible henachoko who’s chickening out of his duties.

“That’s not a bad idea …” he says finally. “But perhaps we should delay until the end of summer. Greta will be home from Cavalcade then, so she can come along. That would give you a little over six weeks to get on top of things here, and clear your schedule for the end of summer.”

When he talks like that, he sounds a little like Gwendal, with his ‘responsibility comes first’ attitude, and a little like Conrad, with his ‘let's indulge Yuuri’ attitude. But, really, it’s a combination only the youngest brother can pull off perfectly.

Yeah, that’s not a bad idea…! I feel kind of bad …. I was originally thinking of going off with Wolf … y’know …. And then, come back before Greta returns from her studies abroad, so that we can have some quality family time without my soul searching getting in the way. But, of course Greta would love to come along! What father would rather leave his daughter out of a summer vacation? I was being inconsiderate, wasn’t I?

“Yeah …” I agree after awhile, discreetly running my pinkie up and down his. “Yeah, we can make it a family vacation…!”

“A family vacation, you say?” Murata chips in, happily chomping down on a cookie. “That would include Lord von Voltaire and Lord Weller, too, of course. They _are_ part of your family, after all, aren’t they? Seeing as they are Lord von Bielefeld’s brothers!”

I give him a glare, trying to telepathically convey, ‘what are you up to, Murata?’. This has better not be his way of seeking revenge for my unintentional insensitivity from earlier!

“Of course, Yuuri, it will always be my pleasure to share in the joys of family!” Oh, now he calls me Yuuri without me reminding him? That’s creepy, Conrad! And he’s even smiling that refreshing smile of his! Seriously, what are they up to? “I’m sure Gwen agrees. Isn’t that right, Big Brother?” Eeek, he’s even cajoling big big bro? Not that this has anything to do with it, but try saying ‘big big bro’ again and again, with a steady rhythm, and you’ve got a beat going!

Next to me, Wolf’s big eyes widens, as he’s muttering, “Since when does Conrart call Older Brother ‘Big Brother’?” under his breath. Ah, see, Conrad, you’re even creeping your little bro out! Wait — so if this were a cartoon series, the three actually-very-much-alike-despite-looking-nothing-alike Mazoku brothers would be called the ‘Big Big Bro, Big Bro, Baby Bro’ series?

Gwendal heaves a suffering sigh, forehead creasing into his signature frown. “I don't see why I should,” he rumbles in his low baritone.

“Come now, Gwen, just picture it … His Majesty’s family on vacation…! The sheer amount of cuteness…!” Eh? Cuteness? Conrad must be talking about Greta, because her Uncle Gwen simply dotes on her, despite his gruff demeanour. But I’m also thinking about Wolf … he sure is cute. “If you choose not to come with us, you’ll surely end up in Missouri!”

“Burrrrr!!!” I wrap my hands firmly around my warm teacup and move closer to Wolf. “Conrad! Please don’t skip seasons from summer straight to winter. We’re not even at midsummer! That’s some serious climate change, you know. Or rather, please don’t end the summer before I even get my summer vacation!”

“That’s right, Lord Weller!” Murata rubs his arms to ward off the cold. “So you better come along, Lord von Voltaire, or you might be teleported off to America, on Earth!”

Gwendal’s expression becomes, if possible, even grumpier. He shakes his head, as if to chase out all thoughts of cuteness. His face seems to be grumbling, ‘Why are the children ganging up on me?!’. “I’m afraid that is out of the question. The affairs of the Kingdom cannot be left unattended to.” As though to emphasise his point, he immediately picks up a file and starts going through it.

“Come on, Gwen!” Even though this isn’t my idea to begin with, my sense of justice cannot bear to watch such blatant labour abuse, never mind that it is in fact self-inflicted by a workaholic. “You have labour rights and, by extension, human rights, you know! Hang on — that’s not quite right! Is it demon rights…? Demonic rights…? Ah, at any rate, it is your inherent right to take a break and have time to yourself to enjoy with friends and family! And since I’m the last boss, I think I get a say in your employment benefits! Over to you, Muraken, bring on the labour law arguments!”

“Hey, just because my Mom is a lawyer doesn’t mean I know the law in and out! Besides, there are many different areas of law, and no single lawyer is an expert in all of them, you know!” protests Murata. “But, having said that, Lord von Voltaire, Shibuya _does_ have a very good argument there!”

Gwendal sighs. “And just who do you suggest we leave in charge of Blood Pledge Castle and the Kingdom’s affairs?”

In an almost comical moment, four pairs of eyes (two black, one green, and one brown) train their gazes intently on the Royal Tutor and Advisor Lord von Christ Gunter, as if it were a calculated and co-ordinated move. There’s a moment of such silence that you can almost hear the creek-creek-creek-creek of crickets chirping. Wait — do crickets go ‘creek-creek’ here? For all I know, they might go ‘roaaarrrghhh’! I mean, that wouldn’t be any less shocking than dragons that go ‘meow’! Anyway, it’s so silent that you can hear Gwendal’s long, dark grey hair swishing loud and clear, as he turns his head to see what everyone is staring at.

“ME???!!!”

The next ten minutes is Gunter fluctuating radically from wailing in anguish that he is to be left behind and parted with His Most Precious Majesty, to wailing for joy that His Most Beloved Majesty should trust such an undeserving servant as himself with the honour of such an important task. Either way, he’s wailing like one of those faulty alarm systems that go off when there is even the slightest bit of vibration. I try to tell him to calm down, but I don't think he can hear me over his own wailing! I feel kind of bad, if we’re going to leave him behind. It’s one thing to go off on missions, another thing entirely if it’s a holiday! As a good boss, I can’t just show favouritism to Conrad and Gwen, just because they’re … erm … y’know … sort of … practically my in-laws. Despite all his dramatics, Gunter is one of my most trusted advisors and loyal friend since the very beginning. And after what I just said to Gwendal …. Looks like I’m not going to get my wish for a private vacation alone with Wolf, anyway, huh? Especially if Conrad and Gwendal are coming. Oh, well — might as well make it like a company family day, then!

“Wait — why do we have extras coming along, anyway?” I grumble under my breath. “I mean, what was Murata and Conrad playing at?”

“They are coming along to guard you, _obviously_!” sniffs Wolfram. “Being my _brothers_ is just a convenient excuse for them to come with us.”

“So Murata had spotted the opening and grabbed that opportunity, while Conrad had caught on and played along? Since when did they team up?” I scowl.

“Ah, don’t be so harsh, Lord von Bielefeld!” says Murata cheerfully. “And don’t make such a dreadful face, Shibuya! I’ve told you so many times already: you need to get used to being protected! You can’t help it that the family you’re marrying into just so happens to consist of Shin Makoku’s la creme de la creme de la crop!”

I don’t even comment on how he just combined two similar phrases there. “Heh, guess you’re right. Ah, it is as I thought, then, might as well make it the whole crew! After all, if I think about it, Gunter is like an overprotective, doting grandparent to me … so that makes him a part of the extended family, sort of, right?”

“Oh, Your Majesty!!! Such kindness — such benevolence, as only your noble and most gracious lips can utter, from a heart of pure gold! To think that Your Majesty would bestow upon this meanest, this most undeserving servant the great honour of a place amongst your extended family!” And he dissolves into complete incoherency.

“That was overkill, Shibuya!” Murata mouths, as the ‘Big Big Bro, Big Bro, Baby Bro’ combo executes seemingly synchronised head-shakes in dismay at Gunter’s antics.

“Well, _you_ started all this!” I mouth back. “You’ll be coming, too, won’t you?” I go back to speaking normally again. “Best friends are after all practically part of the family, too, right?”

Murata gives me a bright and sincere smile.

“Once again, Your Majesty, if you insist that we _all_ go along with this ill-conceived scheme, who is going to be in charge here?”

I want to protest Gwendal’s way of putting it so badly! In the first place, I only wanted Wolf to accompany me — just the two of us! But before I can voice my protest, Gunter beats me to the punch, by exclaiming that Gwendal is committing blasphemy in his unjust criticism of the Great Sage’s plans. At this, Murata shares a private eye-roll with me — it’s because he will have you know that he is _not_ that overrated long-haired guy with the crappy personality.

“Let’s not worry about who will be left in charge just yet, Gwen. As His Majesty plans to go on vacation in about six weeks’ time, that gives us some time still to make ready the necessary preparations. There’s no need for us to fret ourselves over it, right now,” Conrad soothes his older brother. “Your Majesty? Do you have somewhere particular in mind for this vacation?”

“You gave me my name, so it’s Yuuri when we’re not working, Conrad! As for the venue of the vacation … mmm … I don't have anywhere specific in mind. But I do have a specific criterion I’m looking for in the type of venue.”

“And what is that?” Even though it’s Conrad who asks this, they are all looking at me curiously.

I turn to look at Wolf and subtly brush my ankle against his, before answering:

“A cliff.”

“ _A CLIFF_?!”

At that time, there was a resounding cry of ‘A CLIFF’ in various different tones. In fact, so different were the reactions in that certain room in that castle, that any musical virtuoso would weep to hear such a clash of notes. It could have been the perfect five-part harmony of the Blood Pledge Castle Choir — quite the chorus of cacophony, indeed!

“A cliff …” the tone was like ‘hmm, I wonder …’. Murata Ken had a look of contemplation, which slowly changed into a look of understanding, which in turn changed into a gleeful look of ‘I should have known!’. Because, he _really_ should have known, from the moment he had — by some fortunate accident, of course — come across Shibuya’s essay. It was right before they took that trip back here. Shibuya had gone over to Murata’s for help with revision. And while digging through his bag, some papers had fallen out. Being the helpful friend that he is, Murata had bent down to pick them up, and that’s when he saw it: those special words, so full of meaning, written at the bottom of a schoolwork! So, if this specs-kun had been overcome with curiosity — no one can wonder why, right? After all, it’s a school assigned essay — it has even been graded. So, it’s not like he was prying into Shibuya’s private diary or anything. Besides, he frequently reads Shibuya’s essays when he helps him out with studies. A quick glance through was enough to confirm Murata’s suspicion of what has been on his friend’s mind. Sure, Shibuya didn’t explicitly describe his experience on that cliff. But, for someone who knows Shibuya like Murata does — and, moreover, Murata had been on the scene and had witnessed it first-hand — it really wasn’t hard at all to figure it out! On top of that, there’re even clues in the essay writing itself — what about those messily crossed-out words, eh, Shibuya?

“A CLIFF???!!!” This one came out the highest pitch of the lot. Strange … how someone with a fairly baritone voice is the one who managed to hit that pitch! Gunter von Christ — poor old Gunter — if his long hair weren’t naturally silvery grey, this would be the point when they drastically turn white from the shock and stress! Then he would become like the old men of wisdom in so many other fantasy series! That aside, this old Gunter, who doesn’t look old at all, is frantic with worry! Why oh why does His Majesty want to travel to such a dangerous place? Oh, no! What if he gets hurt? What if he slips and falls? Barely in the spring of his youth, His Dear Majesty is but a tender and delicate chick, still taking his first flights! Those rocks — those sharp, jagged rocks — it would be only too easy to lose one’s footing, notwithstanding how wet and slippery they can be!!! No — Gunter must see to it that the cliffs that they eventually travel to is to be carefully inspected and adjusted for safety! Oh, Your Majesty!!!

“A cliff.” If the previous one was practically a soprano, this one is the complete opposite; it came out as a low rumbling base. Gwendal von Voltaire could already feel that imminent headache crushing down on him. Just what are the children, who are not at all cute — yes, Gwendal was convinced he can convince himself that they are _not_ cute — just what are they up to this time? More likely than not, some mischief are bound to come out of His Majesty’s ideas, even when the King never intends for hell to happen — that kid is a trouble magnet! And why did they have to insist he partake in their madness? Cuteness be damned! He might just knit up a storm, enough stuffed animals to fill up an entire crevasse! Yes — kitties and bunnies, to begin with, then he can start on lions, bearbees, dolphins, sand bears, even a hell’s paradise goala! Just great … now all he would need is an encounter with his childhood friend, the Red Devil, and this damn nightmare would be complete! His frown increased by a crease or two …

“A cliff?” This tone was soothing and gentle, as expected of the charming godfather. Conrart Weller was curious, however, as to what brought on this strange request? He knows a bit about summer vacations on Earth, having been there before. And knowing his godson …. He would have thought the beach would be the natural choice, after hot springs and bath paradises — that is, if it’s not baseball related. Oh, he would indulge his godson’s wishes, of course — if a cliff is where His Majesty wants to go for a vacation, to a cliff they will go. Yet … ‘what have I missed?’ is what he’s cracking his head over. What would his young, active teenage charge want with cliffs, anyway? It would seem that baseball is out of the question, given how dangerous cliff sites can be. He’s never known Yuuri to be fond of extreme sports, either. Then he recalled … Yuuri had wanted to be alone with Wolfram on this vacation, before the rest of them crashed his plans. Did his baby brother know something he didn’t? An inside joke between them? A hot joke — like a hot inside joke — as opposed to his cold dad jokes? OK, seriously, what _have_ I missed? His constant refreshing smile slipped a little. They’re growing up too fast …! It’s times like this that he really feels the bitter-sweet regrets … and the darker regrets of his absence during his betrayal closing in on him. But still — why a cliff? He won’t push for answers, but he sure as hell is curious!

“A … cliff …!” There was a strange sort of lilt in its inflection. Wolfram von Bielefeld could be said to be surprisingly subdued — for him, at least. He did not scold nor nag the henachoko for what the others clearly thought was a bad idea. In fact, he was the only one, apart from his fiance’s best friend, who has any idea as to why Yuuri might want a cliff for his vacation site, though he may not understand the reasoning behind it. If he’s correct in his assumptions, this has got something to do with that devastating event … that traumatic experience … when he had to pull his fiance up from that cliff. Wolfram still gets nightmares about it. Forget those nightmares where he relives his encounter with Keiji the sand bear — these are worse … far, far worse … because he could have lost Yuuri. He’s not afraid, because he knew — he knows — that he would go after the henachoko, whatever the consequences. In that moment, he had been strong — strong-willed, strong at heart — he was determined, he would not lose Yuuri to that stupid crevasse. If it had come to it, he would have gone right down, all the way down to the depths of hell, to find his henachoko of a fiance. And if it came to it, he would do it again and again, without the slightest hesitation. But … perhaps in the deepest parts of his subconscious, he knew there is that possibility … that horrible possibility … however remote it may be. And so he scowled, sitting straight up and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at Yuuri with an unreadable expression.

“Yes. A cliff,” said Yuuri. He grinned somewhat sheepishly at the variety of responses he was getting, but he’s determined on this. His heart did sink a little, though, when he noticed his fiance’s reaction. Was Wolf unhappy…? But he figured they would talk about it when the time and place is right. “Ideally at the top … um … we can camp out or something. Oh — and preferably a cliff off a crevasse, or — or maybe like a canyon …?” … … …

“A CLIFF?!”

It was a number of hours later when the chorus that started in Blood Pledge Castle echoed all the way in Karbelnikoff Castle, or rather mansion, as its Lord prefers to call it. Lord von Karbelnikoff Densham was wild with ecstasy when he first received the letter from the Capitol. Because the Karbelnikoff region is famous for having the most beautiful sceneries — and because Densham is greatly experienced in such matters, seeing how he has made such a booming success out of the tourism industry — Gunter had written to him about the King’s desire for a vacation on a cliff. The letter — which was dispatched via Fly Fly White Pigeon mail carrier, which meant that the bird-loving Densham took a few minutes to coo over the pigeon before attending to this ‘ **letter of utmost importance** ’ (as Gunter had highlighted on the outside) — detailed the curious criteria the King had specified.

Despite his eccentric personality, Densham holds nothing but love and respect for the King and the country. So he was more than honoured to be of service to their beloved King — honoured and excited for the chance to further expand and develop the economy for the sake of both his region and the Kingdom. There’s just one tiny problem, though …

“Cliff — cliffs — a cliff …” he muttered, pondering the matter over. “Why a cliff? Minchey, what attractions do you think the King is seeking out of cliffs? Why would His Majesty wish to take a pleasure trip to a cliff?” He absently stroked the feathers of the chicken in his lap, while he continued to muse over it.

The biggest holiday attractions in the Karbelnikoff territories are, of course, its beautiful beaches — with its soft, white sands, and clear blue ocean, and perfect paradise-like climate. In fact, His Majesty had thoroughly enjoyed himself on the beach, the last time he had taken a relaxing holiday. Perhaps he wanted a change of view…? Certainly, the region, never failing in its wonders, has several impressive sites that would fit the King’s request … but none of them have been touched by tourism, much less been popular! They were all highly secluded corners of the region, where only the rare reclusive artist or author or poet very occasionally venture to find inspiration for their works. So, there aren’t any resorts or pleasure places in those isolated areas. Yet, Gunter had specifically described the King’s wish to make his lodgings right atop a cliff! Never would Densham ever have imagined the King — their young, active and energetic King — drawn to such a place. If he had known that’s what His Majesty fancies, he would have long ago taken upon himself the project of developing cliff-side holidays. He just never thought it would take off, and so he had left those places untouched. But if the 27th Maou himself, whom all of Shin Makoku love and respect with all their hearts, likes such holidays … oh, the passionate economist in Densham von Karbelnikoff can already see the exploding figures and drastic rise in cliff tourism popularity! King Yuuri has that effect on people, you see … because he is such a beloved King, everyone strives to follow in his footsteps! As it were, however, he only had a little over six weeks to set things up. It was going to be quite the challenge. He would make it happen, of course, for their King and the economy! Densham is already planning, not only to popularise cliff holidays, but also on pedestalling the prestige of the site where the King will be spending his time.

But before he got carried away, he needed to first understand what His Majesty is really looking for. The best businessman always fulfils his customers’ desires to the best satisfaction. He regretted not knowing more about His Majesty on a personal level. He wouldn’t want to disappoint the kind King. But, on the other hand, if even his closest advisors have turned to Densham for insight on the matter — aside from naming the vacation specifications, Gunter had asked if he might happen to have ideas or recommendations, because no one can fathom His Majesty’s preference — it would appear that King Yuuri did not elaborate on his choice of holiday site.

After much deliberation, Densham decided his best bet would be to contact the esteemed Great Sage of Double-Black. Although, in this instance, he’s not approaching the Great Sage for political advice — Densham never cared for politics the way some of his fellow nobles do — he is approaching His Eminence as the King’s best friend, who knows of His Majesty’s home world, and is best situated to advise on His Majesty’s likes and dislikes. It isn’t common for any of the nobility living away from Blood Pledge Castle to get in touch with His Eminence — after all, from what Densham gathered, His Eminence is first and foremost friend to the King, not some consultant strategist. Densham hoped his efforts would work out!

What he did not expect was for the Great Sage to write back so enthusiastically, with exploding details on all manner of cliff related activities, that Densham was at a lost of how to proceed. And so, very reluctantly, he turned to his sister for help. Yes, Lady von Karbelnikoff Anissina, Shin Makoku’s crazy/cool inventor (depending on who you ask), would surely be able to solve this conundrum. And it just so happened she was back in Karbelnikoff right then. Densham had no doubt she would be thrilled to take up the challenge of re-creating all these—these complicated contraptions from the Great Sage’s descriptions. But, in order to make absolute that she would not come up with anything dangerous and/or disastrous that would ruin the Maou’s vacation—! Densham sighed … he supposed Minchey here had a crucial job. Because … well … Minchey …

Minchey is a chicken. Ah, now I feel like a kindergartener, going: ‘This is Minchey … Minchey is a chicken … Minchey is Denny’s chicken.’. To be precise, Minchey[s], in the plural, are the chickens that Densham von Karbelnikoff cuddles everywhere he goes. He’s so fond of the name ‘Minchey’ that he names every successive chicken of his ‘Minchey’. This is Minchey (Number 54? — 55? — or is it 56? — ah, who’s counting?!).

Anyway, we’re in the Karbelnikoff territories now, where Densham and Minchey (Number ‘unknown’) are meeting us. It seems the easiest way to access the vacation site is by sea, so we’ll be taking a boat along the coast for over half a day. I look at Wolf a little worriedly. I know that, in sticking with me, he’s had to deal with more sea travel than he likes, but I really didn’t want him to get all seasick for our vacation! It’s supposed to be a relaxing trip!

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine, Yuuri, so stop fussing like a mother hen!”

“Hey, I’m not Minchey!” I protest.

“Minchey is a rooster, you henachoko!”

So if he calls me mother hen, does that make him a Minchey? Let’s not even go there!

Because there are so many of us on this trip — Densham and Minchey, the three Mazoku brothers, Gunter, Murata, Greta, and me — along with our luggages, I expect we would be taking a large boat. However, Gunter, who had organised everything, has once again exceeded all my expectations! I stare, dumbstruck, at Shin Makoku’s pride and joy, the ‘Friends on the Sea’. It’s a large-scale battleship, ready to set sail, complete with its full crew, led by the legendary Captain Sizemore. Even Josak and Dacascos are onboard!

“Ah, Your Majesty!” Captain Sizemore rushes forwards to greet us. “How good it is to see you again, Sire, and on a happy occasion, too!”

“A happy occasion. That’s right!” The few times the Captain had joined me on my crazy adventures can’t really be called happy occasions, I guess, since they were mainly dangerous missions that I got myself tangled into. “This is a leisure trip — so, er, why is it that we’re taking a warship, a full-scale warship? Uhh … not that I’m not happy to see you, too, Captain! And this ship is, after all, the best in our navy, right? I’m sure you’ll need to keep it running — just like how you can’t just leave engines inactive for too long — so this is like a routine round, and we’re going on a detour. And I’m really quite fond of this ship…! Ah, the memories …!”

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” says Conrad, before I can make the poor Captain even more flustered, and lose more hair. “We just want to be prepared.”

“Pre—prepared?” I squeak. “We’re not going out for battle, are we?” At once, my mind imagines the worst possibilities — that something has come up, and this is some sort of emergency trip.

Wolfram just rolls his eyes and tilts his chin towards a train of carriages I haven’t noticed because I was so preoccupied by the huge battleship.

“Eh?”

“Those are the things we’ll be bringing along with us on this trip,” explains Conrad. “Apparently, the destination is rather remote and isolated. Gunter is worried of any and all possibilities. So we are fully prepared for whatever unforeseen circumstances that we might encounter.”

“It’s only over half a day away, isn’t it?” I say weakly. The sheer amount they are loading onto the ship looks like there might be a whole year’s worth of supplies!

Turns out, it’s not only food and other necessities we’re carrying onboard. There are crates and containers of unknown items as well, which Densham assures us are absolutely necessary for the trip. Gwendal has commandeered a whole carriage just for documents and other work related implements. It seems he can’t even leave his work for just a week, so he’s going to work while on holiday — like one of those parents who continues to conduct work related business while at the dining table! “You mean like my parents?” Murata says lightly, when I mention this to him. Yeah, I am aware of his parents’ overworking habits — but when I try to apologise for being insensitive, Murata just laughs it off like it’s nothing, because he’s used to it. But Gwendal and Gunter has taken this full-proof preparation to a whole new level! Gwendal has ordered that his writing desk drawers in his room at Voltaire Castle be transported to Blood Pledge Castle, while Anissina’s underwear drawers be brought onboard the Friends on the Sea! Apparently, there is a dimensional travel route linking these two furnitures, invented by Anissina, of course. I really don’t want to know what’s the Poison Lady’s underwear situation in all this strangeness!

Speak of the devil, the Red Devil, in fact!

“Eh? Anissina? You’re here, too!”

“Of course, Your Majesty! If Densham is going to start up a new branch in the tourism sector, do you think he’s able to do it successfully without a woman’s sharp insight? Certainly not! Men … they can be so blinded by profits, sometimes!” She has set up base below deck, where she is now supervising some procedure or other. Looks like she can’t leave her work behind, either! So, the two childhood friends have this in common, huh? Greta, ever an avid admirer of the Red Devil’s works, is with her. I know I don't have to worry — Anissina would never let her favourite student come to any harm — still …. What surprises me is that Murata is there, too. Good — he can help keep an eye on Greta. Not wanting to get dragged into any of her experiments, I quickly make my exit and look for Wolf. I find him standing alone, staring out at the ocean.

“Remind me to stow away with you on a secret journey for our next vacation,” I murmur, gently taking Wolf’s hand and lacing our fingers together. “I’ll even take whatever crate you decide on!”

“Hmph! I thought you said the colour orange really got on your nerves in that mandarin fruit crate? Because I still don't think the fish crate was a good idea!”

I laugh at that. “I told you it was already cleared out and washed clean!” Yet, even so, I had conceded to his choice to stow away with fruits.

The two of us are alone on deck, in a corner near the stern. It’s the very corner we were loitering around that night, right before our encounter with the Shimaron patrol ship and the Shinzoku refugees on our way to Small Shimaron. That moment … you could even call it somewhat … romantic — after all, that was around the time our … relationship … hit the growth spurt — I had started testing the waters, albeit a little timidly, and yet all the while stoking up the flames of … well … love. That was the time that came after my cathartic realisation to which our cliff moment was the catalyst. Feeling emotional from this nostalgic reflection, I lean in and kiss him tenderly on the lips, softly caressing his face. The small bashful Japanese boy part of me is too overwhelmed by my feelings to really care that we’re not in the privacy of our bedroom and that someone might see us right now. For one heart-felt moment, he kisses me back … before a particularly strong wave jolts the ship and he quickly pulls away to retch over the railing.

“Hey, wait — you disliked it that much?” I joke, purposely using the same words he had said to me once, after snapping me out of my Ue-sama mode. I rub his back to ease his discomfort, while he glares at me half-heartedly. I’m sure he gets it, because he gives me a kick. “Ow!”

“You’re the one who disliked it, remember?” He straightens and sways a little, so I step closer, directly behind him, and pull him back to lean against me. Because we are roughly similar in height and physique, I tilt my head slightly to one side so that I can see his expression.

“I never said I disliked it, you know,” I say quietly.

“That’s true. But you _did_ snap out of it, the minute I threaten to administer the prince’s kiss.” Although he is speaking matter-of-factly, I can see the trace of a smirk forming.

“You know, about that …” I tuck him closer, moving my hands from where they were clasping his shoulders to wrap my arms around his waist. “I think that was my subconscious kicking in. That was me responding, as in the average guy me.”

“Huh?” His eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

“Hm, how do I put this…? I think … that was me — the real me — wrestling control from my powers, pushing through from my subconscious, in response to what you said back then.” I blush at what I’m about to say. “I think … what I’m trying to say is that … I wanted to k—kiss you as me. I mean — not that I wasn’t me while I was raging about — that’s still me, y’know — it’s just that, the better I can control my powers, the more I can remember what happens! But I was so mad, Wolf — so, so mad and afraid — I completely lost it — Wolf, I—I thought I had lost you!” I tighten my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, hiding the tears I can feel welling up. He reaches up to gently massage my brows, not saying anything — just giving me silent comfort, to which I am grateful, because I needed to spill that. “Sorry …. I’m being a henachoko, aren’t I?”

“Hmm, normally I would say it’s good that you have some awareness of that. But you don’t have to apologise, Yuuri,” he says kindly, and kiss my left cheek sweetly.

I laugh weakly, and let him wipe my tears. “Sorry — I mean — I kind of went off topic a bit, didn’t I?” I turn my gaze to the endless clear, blue ocean. “As I was saying … I wanted to kiss you as me, the average wimpy me. When it comes to us, Wolf, I want it to be just you and me … just you and me, without any guises that circumstances place on us. I know that’s kind of naive, but …” I trail off, not knowing how to end that thought.

“That sounds, in a way, oddly chivalrous. But I get what you mean.” Then, he crosses his arms over his chest and raises his chin, before saying in a lighter tone, “So much for all of that! We didn’t even get that kiss, in the end. You even ran off across the seas, and I had to chase you to the ends of the earth. How troublesome! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were running away from that!” His gorgeous eyes are sparkling with humour.

“Wolf—!” I choke. “We were on a _burning_ and _sinking_ ship!!! That stupid gaudy ship — what was it called again — Golden Salmon? The one that’s got nothing to do with good sashimi! And you were the one who made me go ahead without you — which is, by the way, what I _really_ disliked!”

“Hmph. That, and the fact that you’re too shy to be affectionate in front of others.” I choke even harder at this, and he smirks. “Speaking of which,” he adds, as he twists around in my arms to thump my back, “you’re being awfully straightforwards out in the open today …”

“Eh? Could it be you prefer we take it to the cabins, then? Wonder if that room we occupied as stowaways is currently available? Y’know, the one that was supposed to be Dacascos’s…?”

“Right.” He snorts, and rolls his eyes. “You mean the one Gunter declared his love nest?” We both burst into laughter at the recollection.

“Sure brings back memories, huh?” I suppose taking the Friends on the Sea for this trip _is_ a great idea, after all! With my arms still around him, I look into his eyes that are still bright with amusement. I want to say more — to tell him that this trip is about us, after all …. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling a touch more courageous than usual.

Before I get the chance to do that, we are interrupted by an excited yell of “Daddy! Papa!”, as our daughter comes running towards us. We hastily step away from each other. I try to will away my blush — but from the way Greta stops a few feet away, eyes sparkling and giving us a strangely warm smile, I think she’s noticed something.

“Greta?” Wolf inquires, while I reach out to ruffle her hair that is already windswept from the sea breeze and all her running around.

“Huh?” She blinks, as if she’d momentarily forgotten what she was so excited about. “Oh — yeah!” She tucks on our sleeves, bouncing on her heels with excitement. “Come quick! You need to see this!” With a whirl, she takes off, leaving us to catch up with her.

As a concerned father, I want to call out to her not to run like that, especially on a moving ship. But … kids will be kids, I suppose, and Greta sure is one tough cookie! Besides, she might outgrow this phase — all too soon, our little girl will grow up, and then she might think that running around carefree like that is too childish.

Lost as I am in my parental contemplation, I don't realise I’m lagging behind, until Greta calls out, “Come on, Papa Yuuri!”, and Wolf grabs my wrist to pull me along. We jog along behind her until we reach the bow of the ship, and Greta spreads her arms like she’s exclaiming, ‘ta-da!’. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing, though. Even with my perfect 20/20 eyesight, all I can see is the wide expanse of ocean ahead. I turn to look at Wolf, to see if he has any idea what Greta is showing us, but he appears equally puzzled.

“Um, Greta, what are we looking out for?” I ask.

“You’ll see! Just wait awhile … very soon now! Greta caught sight of it through this…!” She pulls out a small silver cylindrical object from her pocket.

“One of Anissina’s MA-powered telescopes?” asks Wolf.

Ah, that’s what it is …. Since the features that require magical energy are additional enhancements, it actually works just as well without magic, so Greta is able to use it like a normal telescope. “Can I have a peek?”

“Mmm, no, Papa. You have to wait to see the real thing! It’s much more impressive that way!” She giggles at my pitiful look. “Thought it would be nice to see it as a family!” Papa’s heart has melted!

“Look…!” Wolf taps my shoulder to catch my attention. I follow his line of sight and see a glittering speck. Gradually, it materialises into a magnificent sight. As we admire the spectacle, Wolf and I are standing side by side, shoulders brushing, with Greta in front of us, clutching the railing and excitedly bouncing on tiptoes. I slip my hand into Wolf’s, as though to better share the moment with him.

My jaw drops at the scenery before me. I’d always known my home … my Kingdom … is a beautiful place — but if I have to say, Shin Makoku really outdid itself this time! Soaring cliffs towering majestically over fjords in all directions, so dazzling they look like they could have been crystal — heck, for all I know, they might actually be crystals! Without rhyme or reason, the sheer faces curve and twist in mesmerising patterns — the difference in depths and angles creating different light refracting patterns.

“Wow…!” I breathed in awe, as our ship came to a stop. We are at the perfect distance to appreciate the panoramic view. “But … how are we getting up there? Our destination is up there, right?” Because there isn’t a place to settle at the bottom of the cliffs — no strip of beach, or flat rocks — unless we’re meant to just stay aboard the ship for a few days and enjoy the view, like on a cruise holiday … which wouldn’t be too bad an idea, except for Wolf’s seasickness.

“Yes, Your Majesty, everything has been arranged and taken care of.” I turn to find Gunter looking calm and serene like the respectable Royal Advisor he is, when he’s not having one of his Gun-Gun meltdown moments. It seems he, too, is in awe of the place. So is everyone else, who have crowded at the bow to appreciate the sight. “We have done our utmost to fulfil your request, Sire — anything to please Your Majesty!!!” Ah, there he goes, with the Gun-Gun spraying!

“Uh, thanks, Gunter, I really appreciate it!” I say hurriedly. “But, that’s not what I’m concerned about — I mean I knew you would do a great job arranging things for us — it’s just that I don't see any trail up those cliffs. No matter how you look at it, there’s no way of getting all the way up there, unless you plan to do a free climb up that sheer face of the cliffs!” Just looking at it makes my muscles go weak!

“Eh? But, Shibuya, weren’t you so eager to play Spider-man at the Gilbit Mansion?” Murata comes up to stand on my other side, looking as cheerful as ever. “Aren’t we reliving those sweet summer memories, Captain Crusoe?”

I can feel Wolf getting slightly agitated at the mention of the Gilbit Mansion. Apart from any lingering insecurity he might have with regards to my friendship with Flynn, he still can’t entirely forgive the fact that she had tried to use me, to sell me to Big Shimaron.

“Oh, shut up, Robinson!” I snort. “I recall you were the one who said I shouldn’t try climbing out that prison window, or risk becoming Splatter-man. But here you’d have more options, like Splashy-man or Sunken-man or even Skewer-man! Those rocks look like they can shred you to ribbons! Unless there’s another way up, and we’re just stopping by to appreciate the view…?”

“No, Your Majesty, this is where we disembark. Unfortunately, the ship cannot get any closer, so we’ll be taking rowing boats out to the base of the cliffs,” Conrad explains. “The first boat has already gone out. Gwen and Anissina are with them. Josak, too. They’ll go on ahead to set everything up, then we’ll join them.”

“So we’re planning to tackle the cliffs just like that?! No way! Even if you’ve received that kind of training in the military, that’s far too dangerous! This is supposed to be a family vacation for us to chill out, you know, not Operation Overlord. And I don't care if everyone here is a part of Shin Makoku’s cream of the cream of the crop, I’m absolutely not having that! Just because I wanted a cliff vacation doesn’t mean you need to go to such extremes, you know! You could have picked any crappy old cliff, and I would be happy with that.” I begin to panic, imagining what the first group is up to, right about now. “Quick — we need to stop them, before anyone gets hurt!”

“Normandy, huh? Mmm, yeah, the white cliffs and arches are quite a sight…! You know — if ever you get the chance — you should take Lord von Bielefeld there. How about it — have your own D-Day celebration, as in ‘D’ for ‘date’ — Date Day? And you can stop by Paris — the City of Love — while you’re at it! Ah … France—!”

“Murata! That’s not the point!”

“Relax, Shibuya! Do you really think Lady von Karbelnikoff, of all people, would do something so reckless?” I look at Murata like he’s crazy to even ask that. I mean, it’s Anissina, and her exploding experiments he’s talking about. “OK, let me rephrase that: do you think she would do something so stupid? She’s the Red Devil, for crying out loud! There’s no way she’s going to let herself be associated to anything that isn’t thought through thoroughly! She’s come up with something — you’ll see!”

“And if something does go amiss during the operation, we have the Flying Skeleton Tribe on guard; they are ready to jump in at once. Likewise, the Maidmer princesses and Manmer kings are at the ready to assist from the waters, should the need arises,” Conrad reassures me.

As it turns out, Murata is right — Anissina has indeed come up with a solution. What surprises me — from what I’ve been picking up here and there — is that Murata has somehow got something to do with her ideas. But when I ask him about it, he frowns and say, “I did provide descriptions for all of it, but … the interpretations and re-creations are all hers.” For all of it? I don’t even want to ask what he’s talking about. Anyway, the solution is really quite simple.

We take the boat through one of the larger fjords to the base of the cliffs. Then, we get into ‘Elevate Me High High Up’-kun, which is sort of a hot-air balloon elevator. Of course there would be chicken related motif — because … Densham. If you can imagine a giant chicken egg cracked nicely round the middle, the bottom half is the basket in which we cramp ourselves into — which is terribly awkward, because the bottom of an egg shell is rounded, so we all can’t help but slide down and squash together at the centre — and the top half is the cap. The top and bottom are attached by thick, sturdy ropes; and the top is attached to more ropes that hoists the thing upwards. The basic mechanics is actually a simple pulley system, powered magically so that it is self-operating, as long as one of its passenger has the ability to wield magic — in the case of our group, it’s Wolf. The magical functions also ensures the ability to carry heavy weights, and for stability and safety purposes. Greta just loves it!

I am incredibly relieved when we clamber out of the contraption onto solid ground atop the cliffs. It’s really not that bad, but I quickly check if Wolf is all right. He’s completely fine — looks like Anissina succeeded on the energy conservation front for this project.

I look around excitedly. The place really is remote and isolated! Aside from our party, it’s like there’s no sign of civilisation. It’s truly the hidden treasure, the untouched beauty of nature. It almost seems like blasphemy for us to be disturbing the course of nature, but Densham and Anissina assures me that everything they set up here is temporary and removable. So it’s like we’re on a camping trip!

“Mn, it’s more like a portable holiday resort,” Murata observes.

“Yeah, kind of looks like it … although, I’m not sure how portable it is, if it took us an entire battleship to transport everything here!” I point out.

It’s really impressive how the von Karbelnikoff siblings managed to pull off this vacation set-up within six weeks. Even more so, if you consider that they actually worked together. I mean, the two of them are like cats and dogs — or maybe I should say, like chickens and devils. I would have been more astonished and amazed at how they managed to achieve common ground … if I hadn’t been so closely acquainted with the three most seemingly unalike siblings of all time!

When I express my feeling of guilt for causing them the trouble, Densham waves it off by saying how this is a golden opportunity to expand the tourism sector for the benefit of the region and Shin Makoku as a whole, while Anissina scolds me for being silly because she clearly enjoyed the thrill of the challenge. I don't know if I should be worried, but she adds that she sincerely hope I will especially enjoy what they have in store for the next few days! I also make sure to check with Gunter that all expenses are taken from my own accounts — though, I heard that Densham is taking the costs for the so-called camping equipments upon himself, as investment.

As for the set-up of the camp …!

About a few hundred metres away from the edge of the cliffs, there is a cluster of what looks like giant eggs, which are specially Anissina-designed tents! Again, it’s like a giant chicken egg with a neat crack around its middle circumference. The line that is supposedly the crack is the entrance — so if you unfasten it all the way around, the top can be completely removed, in case we want to sleep under the stars. Instead, we just unfasten a small portion of it and wriggle our way in. Wolf and I have one all to ourselves, while Greta is sharing with Anissina. The interior … well … it’s not like what I expect — I thought it would be a basket-like thing again, like the elevator contraption. Rather, the whole bottom half of the egg is a giant circular bed, so we don’t have to worry about uncomfortable sleeping positions at the bottom of an egg shell. Because the egg tent has a rounded bottom, too, it feels like a very springy mattress when we move. There is a compartment lid, like a trapdoor in the middle of the circular mattress, which leads to a storage compartment, where we keep our luggage. It appears the tent is also MA-powered — for awhile, I worry about sleeping in something that might drain Wolf of his energy — but Anissina assures me its source isn’t its inhabitants. “What use would that be, Your Majesty? Because then the special functions won’t work for non-magic wielders. And since sleeping arrangements are private …” etc etc, is what I get out of her when I ask. What are those special functions? Sound-proof system and temperature control, among other things!

Then there is the bathhouse! Seriously, who the heck has a bathhouse on a wilderness camping trip? Ah, but I’m not complaining, because I love my baths. Honestly, I’m no longer surprised that it’s another giant chicken egg! It’s much larger than the tents, but of a similar concept; instead of the mattress, it’s a swimming pool tub. I find this one hilarious! It has chicken-shaped taps around the edges, water pouring out of their beaks. The bathwater is distilled water, which is surprising, considering we’re by the ocean. Apparently, the bathhouse utilises MA-power to condense moisture in the atmosphere and purify it into water for the bath. There are also MA-powered functions for temperature control and soaps and shampoos and such.

The thing is, unlike with the tents, Anissina didn’t manage to figure out how to sustain it with an external source of magic in time for this vacation. So, at least one person in the baths at a time needs to be a magic wielder, or not a single drop of water would appear. Yes, the minute the MA-power source steps out of the bath, the water is vapourised back into the atmosphere, so that we wouldn’t be bathing in each others’ waters. It’s a five-star rating for hygiene, but is particularly problematic for those who have no magic. I feel kind of bad that I’m relying on Wolf’s magical energy so much, but my powers do not flow the way the others’ do. It’s not a problem, though, since we always bathe together, anyway. And it’s a relief for Wolf and I to know that Greta will be taking her baths with Anissina — because … women power!

However, Conrad, Josak and Murata do not have bathing buddies. And so goes the ‘Gwen bath cajoling’ trio! Every time they want a bath, they would team up and drag Gwendal with them. The tub would fit three grown men just fine — but with four …? — and especially where three of them have large, powerful builds…?! Yeah, hilarious! But, on the other hand, Gwendal is lucky the trio agree to bathing parties, otherwise he might just have to sit in there for hours as they take turns! Gwen and Conrad get along just fine bathing together — they are brothers, after all — but add Murata and Josak in the pool? Yeah, double hilarious!!! I’m sure it’s not my imagination that the bunch of them are taking an extraordinary number of baths throughout this vacation, just to annoy the stoic Gwendal — also, because that is one way to make sure he actually gets away from his documents.

After a quick snack of the regional specialty Karbelnikoff pie, I decide to take a walk along the cliff. Since Wolf and Greta are busy with something, I set off on my own to do some quiet thinking — I guess you could call it soul searching reflection. Hehh, makes me sound like a monk searching for enlightenment or something, which is really far from it.

I know most of the others were caught by surprise when I asked for a cliff-top vacation. It’s not such a big deal, really … but they seemed puzzled, why all of a sudden. They wouldn’t have a clue, because they weren’t there, and I doubt they would have been told about it. I’m sure they know about the devastation and my almost falling off, but they wouldn’t know what it means to me on a very personal level. I don’t know how to tell them that, to me, a cliff is like when someone goes ‘this bat reminds me of the one I had when I first started playing baseball’, or ‘remember that time when we had so much fun … let’s do that again’. Could it be this is what my old man talks about, going down memory lane? To think that I wanted a holiday out on a cliff for nostalgic reasons … I sure am sentimental, huh?

I take a deep, refreshing breath … and travel down memory lane … or is it down memory cliff?

That moment … it happened in the most dramatic of ways. It’s like one of those iconic scenes you see in movies or read about in books. Like, the balcony scene in ‘Romeo and Juliet’ — or is that too cheesy a comparison? But it’s only all too real … an epic, a critical, pivotal moment — a literally life-or-death moment that was earth-shaking, earth-shattering (also literally, on both counts) — that happened to this average Japanese high school boy, with his average appearance, and average intelligence, and even average vocabulary. Call me conceited, but I’m certain it’s no cliche. Cliche would be when the prince charming saves the princess. But, here, there’s no damsel in distress. Instead, you have the _Prince_ (literally, but of the Demon kind and not of the fairytale variety) _charming_ (he can be if he chooses to, but more often than not, he’s curt and candid), who time and again saves the _King_ (who is a complete henachoko) — and that’s worth repeating: a _Prince_ saves the _King_! Heh, how lame…!

Yup, so not a cliche, because — for old times’ sake, I’ll say it, albeit in a different context — _we’re both men_ , for one. That’s a complaint I haven’t uttered since Caloria. This, now, isn’t a complaint, but a fact that, in my humble opinion, makes it all the more epic and non-cliche. And, by the way — this is kind of off topic — but how much more non-cliche can you get if the main character gets flushed, head-first, down a public western-style toilet for ladies, instead of going through the cool ways like wardrobes and special train platforms no ordinary people can access, to get to a world of swords and magic? And demons, instead of … I don't know … fairies and stuff? Sure, I call Wolf an angel, but that’s different. Oh, and let’s not forget — a love story that begins with a _slap_ and a _duel_ , instead of a kiss and a romantic ride on a white horse!

If I look down into the fjord below, I can just picture the huge crevasse, the abyss that would have swallowed me down to hell. What did Murata say again? That a cliff is the crucial edge in critical life-changing decisions … something something…? And he’s right. Hmm, come to think of it, is it possible that he developed that philosophical thought from witnessing and observing that moment? Who knows?!

Oh, I didn’t decide to fall for Wolf — seriously, is there a more fitting phrase — while clinging on for dear life on the edge of that cliff! No. I don't think matters of the heart, like falling in love, is something you can simply make a conscious decision on doing. (That is so not like me to say things like that … or … is it?) I think … or rather, I know … that I’d been developing feelings for that proud and stubborn former Crown Prince. But, up until then, I had been a shy, awkward and confused teenager when it comes to those matters. Wait — if you abbreviate ‘shy, awkward and confused King’ (a.k.a. yours truly), you get the acronym ‘SACK’ — oh, yikes!

What I got out of that fateful experience was inner clarity, to make peace with my feelings. The first thing that I recognised was his hand — those pale, elegant fingers. As I felt his solid grasp around my right wrist, the one thing that was my anchor, and as I looked up at his stern smile … it’s like nothing else mattered. Everything came crashing down, washing over me, and he is the one constant I can always rely on. It’s the simple truth — clear as his startlingly green eyes that is the very bottom of the lake, bright as the sunshine that is his golden blond hair — there really was nothing else to it but true love. And _that_ is a crucial life-changing point for me! The first thing he’d said was that he finally caught me. He’d said it in a calm and collected manner — it’s like he, too, was being confronted by his own inner clarity — and that was, in his own way, a love confession. Ironic that he used the word ‘caught’ in confessing his feelings — not only because he’d just literally caught me from falling into the abyss, which also works figuratively in a romantic poetry kind of way — but also that he’d caught me, as I fall in love … with him. It makes a looping kind of sense, really. And I cherish that dearly.

In retrospect — after my left hand slipped, and as I dangled with only my right hand, and my fingers slipped one after another — that last finger that was desperately clinging on, right before Wolf caught me just as it too was slipping off, was my middle finger. Yeah, the middle finger. I find this quite funny — now that I think about it — it’s like I was symbolically having the final say: ‘screw the rest of the universe that is against it; this is about us, about Wolf and me, and he is the destiny I have chosen’.

Well, it’s not like I went from being a complete ‘sack’ to all of a sudden man up into a manly … er … man…? Mind you, that’s not an affront to women (cue the queen of feminism, Poison Lady Anissina) — I only meant that as a self-gibe at my wimpiness against the homophobic prejudices of the universe. In any case, it’s not like you can just make such a sudden switch while dangling from the hands of your beloved. But then — overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t describe, emotions that came flooding in with my critical cliff-edge clarity — I was prepared to fall to the very depths of hell alone, rather than take the one I love with me. Wolf would probably say that I was just being my typical wimpy kind-hearted self, but that’s not it … I just couldn’t bare it — just the thought — no, NO!

But … love works both ways, doesn’t it? I can’t stand the very idea of him coming by any harm. And he … well … he said it himself … he’d fall with me. Really, I should have told him that would only trap us in a Catch-22 paradox: I want to protect him from hell, even if it means going to hell myself, because I love him so; while he would do anything for my sake, even if it means chasing me all the way down to hell itself, because—! Yeah … love is complicated like that. Then again … a relationship is a give-and-take, right? Learning to compromise … to balance and complete each other. And so, I took that step … _we_ took that step … to nurturing our relationship … that leap of faith … when he told me to trust him … and I did … that is, I do. I met him halfway by reaching up my left hand to grab onto him, as he was grabbing my right wrist with both of his hands. It means so much more than just the act of grabbing onto each other physically.

In that moment, I felt true comfort. It’s kind of ironic. As a child, you would typically cry until you’ve been comforted. But, once you grow up, you allow yourself to cry only when you feel comfortable enough to let your vulnerability show. At least, that seems to be how it is for me. After everything, after all the chaos and confusion that had happened … it was only a few dozen seconds that we reunited, and I felt my control slip and crack — and I just broke down.

As I’ve said, just because I came upon inner clarity and all that didn’t mean we immediately fell into a perfect rose garden and sunshine romance type of relationship. Even after you take confusion out of the equation, I was still a shy and awkward teenager (hmm, ‘SAT’?). Um — correction: I am still a shy and awkward teenager … sometimes … even now … to a certain extent … I suppose. It’s a gradual growing process! So when I landed on top of Wolf after he’d pulled me up, I kind of panicked and scrambled to get off him. I mean — to fall directly on top of the one to whom, you just realised, you’d give anything and everything — yeah … that’s a bit overwhelming. And then that comforting arm he put around my shoulders as I cried … I wished I could just stay there … but I forced myself to pull away. It was so damn hard not to just give in. But — quite apart from being shy and awkward — I didn’t want him to think it was out of misery and desperation, if I held on to him and kissed him, like I wanted so badly to. I wanted to do it right.

I didn’t say anything to him about it over the next few days after our reunion. But Wolf, who knows and understands me best, had figured it out. After all, he’s not the dense and oblivious one between the two of us. If I had any doubts that he knew, or at least had an inkling, of my feelings and its developments, they were quickly cast off the ship — the Dougards’ Red Sea Comet, to be exact — when he slapped my left cheek …. SLAP! He informed me that it was the old Mazoku tradition of a reverse marriage proposal — as in to reciprocate and reaffirm, thereby cementing our engagement. But, before that, he made a comment about how it was a good thing I’d proposed to him right away all the way back then, or I would probably be in the middle of a one-sided crush on him. Heh, how conceited, right? No, actually. Wolf is proud and confident — cocky, even — but never vain nor self-delusional. He just calls it as he sees it, as usual. I mean, why even make such a comment if there wasn’t anything to it, right? As it was, I didn’t even protest any of it. I simply made some light half-hearted comment, to sort of cover up my self-consciousness and the bashful embarrassment of having been called out — especially that part about uncontrollable feelings of inferiority and love!

Gah! Trust Wolf to make it sound so cringey! Not that he’s wrong, but did he _have_ to put it so bluntly? And in front of everyone, too?! Nowadays, it’s different, of course. Heck — I even openly yell out clear implications of our relationship status in front of a whole lot of strangers, without even blinking an eye — like when we were in Seisakoku, for instance!

Then, on one of the nights camping out while we were making our way from Nilzon to Lambert (the capitol of Big Shimaron) for the finals in the World’s Best Fighter Tournament, I guess you could say … I started to give in …. After voluntarily taking first watch, Wolf had joined me by the fire, while Josak went off to take over lookout duty. We were both exhausted and somewhat sick from the effects of being on human lands. But I just couldn’t sleep. It looked like Wolf was about to simply curl up on the ground and fall asleep. Murata had conquered the blankets and the cargo hold of our ‘So Light It’s Like a Dream’ military tank, so the Prince was just going to make do — not that he’d complained, of course, having been brought up in the ways of the military and all. Besides, he’s too proud to just curl up in a tank while others are not as comfortable. But even though I’m fully aware of all that, I couldn’t just let him sleep uncomfortably.

I tried to tell myself it’s because he needed to be properly rested in order to be in top form for the tournament finals; the outcome of which was partially depending on him, after all; and what would that say about my Japanese manners if I allow an elderly person in his eighties (never mind that the elderly person in question looks my age) sleep in such a harsh condition? — but, even I knew those were just excuses. It’s because I care … that’s why … I made him lean against my shoulder to sleep. He looked so cute, with the left side of his angelic face pressed into my left shoulder. I was hyper-aware of him — conscious of every breath, every twitch, every murmur from him — constantly trying not to disturb his sleep. Thirty minutes later, when Josak came back from scouting out our surroundings, I didn’t pull away, and instead just stay in that intimate position. Not even when Murata — a fellow Japanese buddy who’s been exposed to similar social norms back on Earth — joined us … not even then did I attempt to extricate myself, choosing to remain with that comforting warmth cuddled up next to me. When he awoke awhile later, my left shoulder felt incredibly cold, like it was uncanny not having Wolf there.

If the cliff was, in a figurative sense, the turning point, it’s up to the person — up to me — to clear the path and make my way from that point to my destiny. At this point, we were no longer on the edge of a cliff, obviously. But it seemed there were things still left uncleared. There was that whole business with Flynn that had to be cleared out of the way first. I mean, any lingering doubts and denials about how I truly feel had pretty much fallen away off that cliff. Still … I can tell that my friendship with Flynn affected my fiance even more than he had been willing to actually let on.

I’m not really sure what exactly it was that brought it on, but … when we were in the arena for the tournament finals, and we were being threatened to lose on purpose or Flynn would lose her life … Wolfram had said that he knew I was going to succumb to the threat, in spite of his thoughts on the matter, because I’m a henachoko. With our arms around each other in an almost-but-not-quite embrace, he’d asked me … if I knew why he stays with me, even though he’s perfectly aware that I am a henachoko. The answer to that was far more complicated than any straightforwards reply could convey. Somewhere tangled in the corner of my mind where I was still figuring things out, I think maybe I did know the answer. But “I don’t,” was my reply, because — inferiority complexes aside — I really didn’t know how I was worthy of such faith and loyalty from someone like Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld. I guess I wasn’t yet feeling secure enough to confront it outright. Somehow, somewhere along that conversation, our exchange had evolved to more than just the problem at hand … somehow, it went far deeper, reaching through the layers … to a point beyond what I feel and what he feels … it’s become about _us_.

We were standing there, arms around each other, as I stared into his emerald green eyes that were blazing brighter than usual — a face so beautiful … lovelier than any girl’s, yet nothing about Wolfram von Bielefeld can be said to be feminine in the slightest — and burning with a beauty that transcends all qualities of physical appearances … a beauty that burns so brightly from within — I wondered … if a henachoko like me could really touch that heart of fire, that soul of passion. It was then that he said it … in no uncertainty … he told me to think about it, to figure it out … before it’s too late … before he leaves me … abandons me. For some reason, this made my heart both extremely light and very heavy at the same time. Heavy … with desperation, because I can never bear losing him — just the thought of him walking away — please, Wolf, please bear with me, as we work through the mess of everything else. Light … with joy, because, in a strange way, this means that our engagement is no longer a matter of duty, pride and honour to him — he wouldn’t consider walking out on it if it were — and I can be sure, then, that his feelings are true and sincere. Right there and then, I really, really wanted to just pull him to me and kiss him with _everything_ I had. I quite nearly allowed myself to be overwhelmed by those urges that had been burning me. He was so close … I might have just — well — except that, 1. Murata was right there watching; 2. there was an audience of fifty thousand people; and, the next one was probably the most worrying of all, 3. Flynn was being strangled at that very moment! So … I didn’t. And yet …

Sure, Flynn Gilbit had been somewhat attractive — mature, older woman with fairly good looks — and she’s probably the first woman with whom I’ve had some sense of camaraderie, even though our acquaintance began in rather dubious circumstances. And maybe the then still confused teenage boy, that I was, had been just a little curious. Hang on — that makes it sound kind of dodgy! But there really wasn’t anything at all between us — just my mind wondering if I actually was having a crush on her — damn Murata for making it sound like she was my summer fling! In a way, that curiosity helped me along to realising that Wolf is truly the only one. Heh, guess I prefer hot fiery explosions over cold calculating enchantresses. Flynn is a good friend, but that’s all.

Why am I even bringing this up? Well, many tend to make me out as dense and oblivious, but I’m not so dense that I didn’t see the certain changes in the way Flynn saw me. Even if I was wrong, I had to be clear, or I’d be hurting Wolf. So I subtly did so … for instance, by mentioning her husband, Norman Gilbit, whenever it seemed like the conversation was becoming personal … and I’m sure it was not my imagination that she’d stiffened in those instances. Even Murata made similar observations, so I don't think I was all that off the mark.

At the victor’s celebration party after the team from Caloria won the World’s Best, I made my first ever outright rejection. Ugh, that sounded high and mighty of me — what a jerk — but no, there was no drama or anything like that. It was just me telling her — in so many words — in the most indirect ‘please read between the fine lines’ sort of way — that we’re just friends, nothing more. And when I held her on that dance floor in the middle of that crowded room, it was not love but friendship, like the kind of hugs you give your teammates after a particularly good game.

Wolf may not have understood it then — that the reason why I was able to simply hug someone so openly in public is because there were no feelings involved, because it meant nothing intimately personal like that to me. In other words, I’m only shy when it comes to the person who is the most important to me — that is to say, him … my Wolf. We’ve come a long way now, in better understanding each other, as we continue to grow in our relationship. But, at that point back then, he probably thought I was defiantly denying my own feelings by flirting and blatantly cheating on him. I feel my chest constricting in pain, just thinking how he must have felt then.

When I searched the crowd for the most beautiful person in the room and found him by the window, I felt my heart break a little. He looked … dejected … depressed … with a wine glass in each hand, and both glasses were empty. All I wanted to do was rush over to him and comfort him — maybe even scold him a little for drinking so much. Just how much did he drink? It’s obvious he wasn’t anywhere close to getting drunk (I later learn that he can hold his alcohol exceptionally well), but he’d drained at least two glasses — likely more. He was already eighty-two years old, for crying out loud — he needed to take care of his liver!

No, SHIBUYA YUURI IDIOT HARAJUKU FUURI, that’s not the POINT!!! I mentally screamed at myself. Wolf was hurting, and I had to make it right — or I might just lose him … and that was something I absolutely cannot bear. But I knew, as much as I wanted to go to him, anything that came from me right then wasn’t going to be enough — everything I say or do was only going to seem like excuses. So I subtly insist that Flynn talked to him, even when she tried to refuse on the grounds of not getting along with Wolfram. Wolf and I were going to work things out together — but what he really needed right then was absolute reassurance that he has nothing to be insecure about when it comes to us — not anymore, not _ever_.

I was determined to start taking our relationship in a serious direction, even if we have to take one baby step at a time. And I was eager to go home — home to Shin Makoku — home with him, to Blood Pledge Castle. But, of course, fate had its own ideas — and that time around, it was to set Murata and me on the Star Tours back to Earth through a giant drum that supposedly contained jellyfish soup stock, before we could even set sail for home! In the weeks that followed before my next return to Shin Makoku, I’d sulked around, feeling despair and empty. You might say that I was concerned about the circumstances I’d left my Kingdom in — the boxes, plus the whole Conrad situation, etc etc. And I even chalk it up to the end of the baseball season and such. All those weren’t necessarily untrue — but beneath all that is how much I … well … I missed him.

Steady footsteps are approaching me now. I turn and smile to see Wolfram. It’s like my emotions has somehow called him over.

“Is it dinner time?”

“Not yet. Afraid you’ll have quite a while to wait still,” Wolf joins me, standing near the edge of the cliff with our shoulders brushing. “Here, why don’t we take a seat, in the meantime …” He has a bundle in his arms, which he now spreads out on the ground, revealing a large picnic blanket with little chicken designs all over it.

“Ah, this is nice!” I say happily, dropping onto the little chickies. “But I thought they started preparing dinner ages ago?”

Wolf snorts. “It took over a whole hour before Anissina was willing to admit her cooking device isn’t working! Gunter looks about ready to collapse from exhaustion.”

“Eh? Did the ‘Chicken Kitchen’-kun explode? If so, wouldn’t that be bad for the environment?” I start looking around for signs of hazard. ‘Chicken Kitchen’-kun is basically a MA-powered stove that can supposedly switch to whatever cooking mode you choose — so named because Anissina was threatening that Minchey would be the first thing cooked in there, during the latest disagreement she had with her brother.

“Forget exploding, it can barely produce a small spark of flame!”

“Are we having a cold dinner, then? This would be a good opportunity to get some good sashimi! Mmm! Ah — but you guys probably won’t enjoy it as much!”

“Cold dinner? Of course not!” Wolf waves one hand right in front of my face. “It’s true that these conditions with the sea breeze and our surroundings are not ideal to start a fire. But did you forget who you’re with?” He’s just so cute when he looks so smug like this, that I have to smile. “I let them play — fumbling and cursing — until they were willing to admit that cooking over an ordinary fire would save them so much trouble!”

“It’s no ordinary fire, though, is it?” I poke the back of his hand playfully. “I bet you couldn’t resist showing off, even just a little bit…!”

He shrugs. “Anyway, Sizemore and his crew just brought in a fresh catch. Conrart is on cooking duty. He was saying something about a good menu recipe he learnt from Earth. But he only just got started. So it’s going to take a while before dinner is ready.”

“Sounds like dinner will be great!” I laugh. I kind of thought we would be having simple meals, given where we are. “Where’s Greta, by the way?”

“She’s observing a colony of rare insects she’s discovered, not too far off. Don’t worry,” he adds quickly. “Older Brother is with her. He assured me they’re harmless. I believe he read about them from a rare animals list. Apparently, he’s also interested in rare animals.”

“Ah, so that’s how he escaped Anissina’s clutches, and Gunter had to take his place?!”

For awhile, we just sit there in comfortable silence, admiring the glorious sunset over the sea and crystalline cliffs. In my case, though, I happen to also be watching my fiance. He looks calm and composed now, but I remember seeing something in his expression when I first mentioned taking a vacation at the top of a cliff. Perhaps feeling my gaze on him, Wolf turns to look back at me. Our eyes meet, and we take a moment to just look at one another.

I open my mouth to say something, but he speaks first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Eh? That’s what I was going to say!”

“Well, I got there first,” he smirks slightly, “so why don’t you start?”

“Huh?”

“You looked like you were deep in thought when I found you here,” he says simply. “And I have the feeling that your choice of vacation site is no random fancy.”

“Oh, uh, um … y’know … it’s just for nostalgic reasons. I guess I’m just being sentimental.” Is he laughing at me?

“It’s that incident over the cliff, isn’t it?” He turns his body away from me and faces the sea. For some reason, he’s not looking at me.

“It is,” I admit quietly. “Wolf? Is that the same thing that is bothering you?” He doesn’t respond. “I—I didn’t think it would upset you, Wolf! I’m sorry — I really should have asked you about it first — but I didn’t mean to upset you!” I scoot over a little closer to him, but still giving him his space. “P—please? Will you tell me about it…?” I wonder … is he angry?

“No, Yuuri, I’m not angry.” Ah, did I say that out loud? But I’m relieved to hear that.

“Then … what is it, Wolf…?” I ask a little timidly.

He takes his time before answering. It seems that his earlier silence had been because he’s deep in thought, and not because he’s upset or angry as I worried. His gaze is still fixed on the horizon over the sea.

“Do you remember what I told you, when you asked me what would I do, if … I could never see you again?” He speaks slowly. “You asked if I would cry …”

“I —” My throat constricts with emotion.

“I told you I wouldn’t. I would miss you … but I wouldn’t cry. Do you remember why?”

“I — o—of course — I do … Wolf …” At the time, I had initially thought that was rather cold-hearted, because I’m almost certain I would cry most miserably. “It—it’s because you want me to be happy — because you think I wouldn’t be able to live happily if you were to cry …”

“That’s right. Because you have a kind heart, Yuuri — if you knew or if you thought I were miserable and crying for you, you would be troubled.”

“Wolf …”

Honestly, sometimes I really don’t know why the heck did anyone ever label him as the ‘Selfish Prince’ — that’s just being cruel. Deep down, he’s the most selfless person I’ve ever known. But he’s not entirely correct, though …. It’s not because I’m such a kind person … but because I love him so much that I can never … y’know …. And even if I knew perfectly that he absolutely would not cry for me, I don't think — no — I’m sure I still wouldn’t be able to be truly happy … not without him. I—I’m not being melodramatic. It’s just that — just that he means too much to me, and I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe — maybe I’m the selfish one …

“At the edge of that cliff … when I caught you … I wasn’t afraid, Yuuri.” I can see the truth of that burning in his eyes. “I had no room to be afraid, I only had determination. I was determined — I was not going to lose you to that stupid crevasse.”

“I know …” I murmur softly. “I could see it in your eyes, Wolf.”

“If it comes to it, no matter what the consequences, you know I would take on the deepest and darkest pits of hell to go after your henachoko ass, right? I would do it again and again, without any hesitation. So don’t you ever think you can get away from me! After all, how else am I supposed to make sure you don’t go cheating on me?”

“Hey!” I protest, as is customary. We both know he only brought that up as a joke, for old times’ sake. He even has a small smile at that, and I find myself mirroring it.

“But … I think we both know it could have happened … the unthinkable. As much as I refuse … despite everything, it really could have gone wrong. That was _so_ _close_ , Yuuri — you had already lost your final grip by the time I grabbed you. I told you then, that I would fall with you, didn’t I? And I would. I definitely would. But if, by some cruel chance of fate — even though we fall together — you were to die, and I were to be spared … if ever I were to lose you like that — well — I wouldn’t be following after you.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, as if to gather strength, before continuing. “At least, not immediately after. I wouldn’t take my own life to come after you. Nor would I just give up on everything and simply fall into despair. Do you know why? Because if I were to do so, you would never be able to be at peace. Your soul would never find rest. Knowing how kind you are, you might even carry the guilt on to your next life. And more than that,” he adds, “you would rest better knowing someone would be there to clean up the mess you left behind, right? So, I would stay behind to make sure everything you work so hard for would come to fruition — to look after and take care of the things you cherish most. And when my time finally comes, I would be able to face you without regrets — and you had _better_ be waiting for me, you henachoko!” He finally faces me and looks me in the eyes. He’s not breaking down in tears or being all emotional. Instead, what I see in his eyes is such a burning strength of heart that I cannot help but admire. “I would miss you, though, probably like _hell_.” His voice becomes very soft. “But I would find the strength to go on, somehow …”

“Wolf …” I say just as softly. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I suddenly realise tears are cascading down my cheeks.

“Hey…!” Wolf reaches a hand out for me to take.

Why is he the one soothing me? I should be the one comforting him here! Shibuya Yuuri … really such a henachoko, aren’t you? I don’t take his hand — or rather, I don’t just take his hand, but grab it desperately and yank him to me. The sudden movement catches him off guard. He lets out a surprised yelp as he tumbles against my chest. Considering he’s actually stronger than me, this is quite a feat, as I practically pull him onto my lap.

“Yuuri?”

I hug him close, pouring all my feelings into the embrace. By the time I calm down, the stars are shining, and there is a magnificent full moon glowing. We lie back on the blanket to gaze at the night sky. Since Wolf has poured his soul out for me, I feel it’s only right I do the same. So I lay my head on his chest and tell him everything about that cliff, what it means to me, and everything that followed after — stuttering and stumbling, blushing and babbling — I leave nothing out. It’s almost like it’s my first love confession!

“So, you see…?” I shift my position so that I can look him straight in the eyes. “Cliffs will always have sentimental values to me. They have a special meaning to me … to us … Wolf …. I’m not saying that, if it hadn’t been for that incident, I wouldn’t have … y’know … fallen in love with you — I mean, I was already developing strong feelings for you, even before then — it’s just how it turned out, and I cherish it.”

He wraps me in his arms and gives me a dazzling smile. His gorgeous eyes is filled with so much love and devotion. I can’t help myself. I throw a leg over him and place a hand on either side of him, before leaning down to touch my lips tenderly to his.

“I love you so much, Wolf — so much, it hurts sometimes …. You know that, right?” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his.

“I do,” he replies quietly, placing a hand over my heart and massaging gently. It’s like he knows my chest is so tight with emotion, it’s almost hard to breathe. “Because I love you just as fiercely, Yuuri.” His gaze is intense.

I kiss him again. With every movement of my lips against his, I spell out all my feelings for him. He kisses me back just as passionately. It’s like we can’t get close enough. I deepen the kiss, sucking and nibbling on his lips, like I couldn’t get enough — which, really, I can’t. Our tongues meet to caress each other, conveying everything words could not say, tasting off each other the bitter and the sweet of all that we’ve been through to get here. He moves his lips down my jawline, nipping my ear — his hands roaming up and down my sides and under my shirt. I find my hands running over the smooth and hard plains of his bare chest underneath his shirt — finding his nipples and rubbing them — as I start kissing down his neck. I breathe him in, inhaling deeply on that scent — that comforting and familiar scent — the scent I know so well, that, even when partially blinded in the dark undergrounds of Seisakoku, I could still recognise him by his scent. We are heatedly making out on the age of a cliff, under a spectacular night sky …. It’s such a perfect moment … that is, until—

“Oh my my my! Young Masters, how passionate!” Comes a highly amused voice from above.

We jump in surprise; I hurriedly roll off Wolf. Apparently, Wolf still has the presence of mind to remember that we’re close to the edge of the cliff. With a sharp warning of “Careful!”, he grabs my collar to prevent me from rolling off too far. Unfortunately, since my shirt and collar are already in disarray, it probably looks like an act of seduction. Sure enough, Josak is laughing boisterously.

“How bold, Your Excellency! Is this when the wager ‘His Excellency Wolfram will forcibly have his way with His Majesty’ finally pays off?”

“NO!” we both yell at the same time, which only makes Josak laugh even harder.

“… Shut up, Gurrier!” Wolfram snaps irritably.

“… And just what do you mean Wolf will forcibly have his way —? Of course not — of course he’s not forcibly — anything —!” I splutter indignantly, while blushing furiously.

“Ah, I see! So that’s why the wager isn’t paying off, then! Because the desire and passion is equal and mutual, eh?!” Josak gives an exaggerated wink and squeals like a fangirl.

“Jo—sak!” I choke and splutter. Did he really have to put it like that? I mean — of course no one is having their way forcibly — where the heck did that come from?! Wolf and I … that is to say … it’s always mutual … we’re always equals … when we — uh, ah, um — when we make love …! At a glance, Wolf may appear to be more forward and demanding than I am, most of the time, but he never forces me into anything, let alone … _that_! I get the strange feeling like I need to protect my fiance’s honour, even though I’m perfectly aware he’s more than capable of doing that himself.

“Hahhhhh, love!” Josak sighs dreamily. “Well, Young Masters, your big sister here actually came to call you over for dinner time! But it seemed like you Young Masters were perfectly having a private feast of your own already!” Still chortling, he strolls off, whistling merrily.

I groan, while Wolf just rolls his eyes and stands smoothly to his feet. He extends a hand to help me up — which I take — and grabs the blanket.

“How sure are we the tents are sound-proof?” I ask in a low voice, as I give him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Hmm, you couldn’t hear Anissina’s battle with Minchey from outside,” Wolf replies.

I don't think I’ve ever been more glad for Anissina’s inventions — ah, but perhaps I should go touch wood.

The night is beautiful, as we walk back to our camp, hand-in-hand and still a little dishevelled. That night, we bring each other over the edge of the cliff — so to speak — over and over again. It’s much more than just the passion of making love … it’s the precious memories and emotions we share. To think it’s that cliff that is the critical point…! And it’s the greatest feeling of comfort in the world to love and be loved so completely.


	2. Murakenzu Insight!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between best friends! Who knows? They might just make this comedy duo work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> Wait, kinda obvious, right? If I owned them, this wouldn't be 'fan fiction', right? Blah blah ...
> 
> Gah! I think maybe Yuuri's Turkish March tendency is infectious! Look how this turned out! Ah, but the joy of it, though...!

Murata: “Good evening!!! Welcome to another MU—RA—KEN—ZU, with your coolest chill-out buddy Muraken and comedy partner Shibuya the sentimental cliff-top camper!!!”

Yuuri: “Eh? Are we doing this now? Ah, hello! Like he said, this is Shibuya.”

Murata: “Aw, come on! A guy sitting all cool and classy on such a picturesque beach should be giving a far more exciting introduction than that!”

Yuuri: “Mmm, yeah, picturesque is one way of describing this place! But, who’s being all cool and classy? I’m usually very far from that. If I have to say, Wolfram is the classy one, you know…!”

Murata: “Hehe, of course … of course! But, say, Shibuya, can I sit there with you?” *Indicates the picnic blanket with the chicky patterns*

Yuuri: “Yeah, of course you can. You didn’t have to ask, y’know.”

Murata: *Grins* “Ah, I didn’t want to impose on you, especially if Lord von Bielefeld is expected to come join you.”

Yuuri: “Wolf is over there, teaching Greta fancy swimming manoeuvres. Ah, this is so great…! After a week on that fantastic cliff-top vacation, I didn’t think we were going to get a holiday extension on this beach! I might feel a little guilty for slacking off on work a little longer, but who can say no to a Karbelnikoff beach holiday, right? Definitely worth it, especially seeing Wolf and Greta so happy! And Gunter had already arranged everything with Densham ahead … heh, guess they really did doubt me on my choice of vacation site, huh? Whoa, grandpa, you all right there? You’re making such an awful sound just from sitting down!”

Murata: *Groans* “I don’t want to hear that from someone who can barely walk straight! You have been practically limping bowlegged around for the past few days!”

Yuuri: “Hey, that’s different! If you did all those extreme cliff sports that Anissina came up with, I’m sure you’d be in just as bad shape!”

Murata: “Hmm, I’m not going to deny that … I’d probably be crawling on all fours. But that’s because I’m not at all athletically active like you. You say it yourself, you’re the muscle-brain type, right? Which makes me wonder if all that limping around with sores and cramps isn’t really from something else … like, some other type of extreme sports … something that is _not_ the kind of extreme cliff sports with literal cliffs?” *Smirks*

Yuuri: *Hides rapidly crimsoning face* “Ughh, do you really have to bring that up?! It’s not like I haven’t been embarrassed enough already!”

Murata: *Grins cheekily* “You’ve got to admit, it was very entertaining! Poor Dacascos! — Lilit Latchie Nanatan Micotan Dear Old Dacky Dacascos! — he got so creeped out and frightened to see your egg tent quaking so violently while he passed by on patrol, that he ran and got Lord von Christ! Can’t really blame him for freaking out, though … that is an invention of the Mad Magicalist, after all, and I heard Dacascos has had he’s own share of nightmare experiences with the Red Devil. Plus, your tent _did_ look like it was on a Level 5 magnitude (and above) earthquake. At least, Lord von Christ seemed to have understood the situation perfectly well, judging by the way he fainted after his Gun-Gun geysers exploded! The rocking motions were pretty telling of strong and powerful throes of passion—”

Yuuri: “Uwah! That’s OK — you don’t have to go into details! Urghhh! As if that’s not bad enough, you and your bathing party just so happened to be passing by from a late night soak in the bath!”

Murata: “With excellent timing, too, if I do say so myself!”

Yuuri: “The worst timing ever! Coincidence much? Not only did I have to endure Josak’s teasing all week — even Conrad has been giving me oddly proud smiles and pats on the back at random moments. I guess I should be glad Gwen is the stoic type, so all I’ve suffered from him were the occasional facial twitches, which — come to think of it — might have been his show of amusement, instead of annoyance as I thought.” *Face-palms* “Aww man, I’m never going to live this down! This is bad … I feel like I was being a perverted exhibitionist!”

Murata: “Hey, hey! What are you getting yourself so worked up for? The two of you are in love and engaged to be married, right? It’s to be expected that you’re intimate with each other. Hey — why are you blushing redder and redder? Uh, do you need me to pour an ice bucket over you? No — don’t choke, don’t choke!” *Pounds Yuuri on the back* “Like I said, it’s natural! Nothing to be embarrassed about! Besides, it was only that one night. Didn’t Lord von Bielefeld get fed up with all the attention the next day and pile rocks around the base of your tent to make sure it wouldn’t rock about anymore? The rest of the nights that followed were completely private between the two of you, weren’t they? And I’m sure that wasn’t your first time with your partner…! So, it’s not like all that teasing is particularly ruining anything special for you, right?”

Yuuri: “You’re right.” *Takes a deep breath* “I—it’s not like I’m ashamed or anything like that. We _are_ committed, after all. It’s just kind of weird and a little disconcerting to hear your private affairs discussed out in the open, you know …. I’m just glad no one decided to barge in on us to check if everything was all right…!”

Murata: “And risk getting burned to a crisp? No, thanks. Besides, we didn’t have the time to interrupt you — there was the more pressing matter of a passed out Lord von Christ there. We had to send Dacascos through the underwear drawer to get the Healer Demon Sergeant, what with Lord von Christ already exhausted from the evening’s exertions with ‘Chicken Kitchen’-kun. Ah, and that bald head finally got some accessories — did you hear?! If anything, I’d say Dacascos had it much worse than you did, Shibuya … he was frantically running around without realising he had one of Lady von Karbelnikoff’s underwear stuck on his head!”

Yuuri: “Good point. But — going back to those extreme cliff sports — weren’t you the one who is originally behind all of that?”

Murata: “Not really. I mean, I was the one who introduced the idea of cliff sports, but what you experienced was the re-interpretation and re-creation of Lady von Karbelnikoff. It was actually Lord von Karbelnikoff who wrote to me, asking if I know of any cliff related activities. Came as quite a surprise, when I heard from him. I believe Lord von Christ was concerned — most of them were — that you were being out of character, wishing for a quiet vacation. Isn’t the ideal holiday for the typical Shibuya Yuuri a full-on, all-out, play-all-you-can baseball spree?”

Yuuri: *Mutters* “Those are just phrases that mean more or less the same thing!”

Murata: “After Lord von Christ expressed his concerns, Lord von Karbelnikoff figured you might just get bored out of your mind, if he doesn’t come up with the best holiday package a cliff-top can offer. They all just want to please you, you know … it’s because you’re such a great King, you’ve earned not just their loyalty, but their love as well. They want you to be happy, you see.”

Yuuri: “Um, not that I’m not touched and all … but … er … what’s with that tone all of a sudden?”

Murata: “Since Lord von Karbelnikoff was so determined to learn more about cliff activities that people get up to on Earth, I thought it would do no harm to tell him about them. I expected him to get some inspiration out of the descriptions I provided — y’know, as the innovative entrepreneur that he is — but I didn’t think he would turn to Lady von Karbelnikoff to re-create them. The trouble is, they did not consult me further, and simply got on with the project. The result of all that is what you have experienced back there! That was some seriously scary stuff she came up with!”

Yuuri: “No kidding! Like that ‘cannoning’ thing we were made to do right at the start…! It was a fully transparent egg-shaped capsule Wolf and I got packed into and launched off the cliff at super high velocity from a specially designed cannon! It might have been a little less nauseating if the capsule wasn’t transparent — as it was, we could see the world tossing around up and down everywhere, as we shot down into the fjord! And as if that wasn’t enough, the capsule was designed to pop upon contact with water! So, before we could even process what was going on, we found ourselves floundering in the water!”

Murata: “It was supposed to be ‘canyoning’ or ‘canyoneering’! I don't know how she got ‘cannon’ out of it! That said, the other stuff weren’t that bad, were they? The abseiling, bungee jumping, canyon or fjord swinging, cliff diving, cliff climbing, and so on went quite well, albeit cranked and spiced up here and there with special twists, wouldn’t you say?”

Yuuri: “Uh, I wouldn’t know — I’m not into that kind of sports, y’know. But, what was it with all that couple theme? Every activity had to be done in pairs, because the contraptions were engineered to work only when there are two people harnessed together. I mean, that was some strange harness design, where you had to be all entwined around your partner for the straps to fit into place!”

Murata: “Not that you’re complaining, though? Because you partnered with Lord von Bielefeld for every one of those activities. That’s a good reason to be intimate out in the open, eh? Ah, that blush is back! Well, from what I understood, your mother-in-law to be was stopping by the Karbelnikoff territories and just so happened to pop in to say hello to Lady von Karbelnikoff, who was then deciphering my descriptions. I believe Lady von Spitzweg read the part where I may have mentioned that you wanted a cliff-top vacation for ‘ **personal sentimental reasons** ’. Don’t worry, I was sure to keep it vague, and only said it’s for ‘personal sentimental reasons’. Most would have just let it go — but this is the Huntress of Love we’re talking about, after all — she can sniff love out from just those few words. So she convinced Lady von Karbelnikoff to specially design harnesses for couples, or something to those effects.”

Yuuri: “Yeah, that sounds like Lady Cheri all right…! But it was kind of a little dangerous, though … if one of us were to take a misstep, the other would follow.”

Murata: “Isn’t that the spirit we’re going for? Falling together, right? When one falls, the other follows, right til the end. Ah, the power of love!”

Yuuri: “Er …” *Shifts uncomfortably*

Murata: “Great re-enactment, by the way, of that soul-stirring cliff scene, from way back when!”

Yuuri: “That wasn’t on purpose! I wouldn’t do something so dangerous like that on purpose! For awhile there, I thought my heart had stopped from sheer fear …” *Shudders*

Murata: “But then you snapped back into focus, didn’t you? Because you knew you had to stay calm and collected to resolve the situation …. Shibuya, what actually happened there? All we saw from across the fjord was Lord von Bielefeld flinging you clear over the top of the cliff while clinging on for dear life himself. And then you came back and pulled him up …”

Yuuri: “Erm, well, that was the last part of the cliff climbing, and we were pretty worn out by the time we were near the top. I don't know about Wolf, but I was at the point where all my muscles felt like they were molten and my mind was fuzzy from exhaustion. Then, my stupid left foot — the one that was attached to Wolf’s right leg — got stuck in a particularly tricky spot, and I couldn’t get it out. And we weren’t in the position to struggle too much, y’know … we were already in grave danger of losing our grip. I’m not too sure myself how exactly it happened, but my other foot, my right one, lost its hold, while I was trying to free the other one. My hands were getting cramp and numb, so my full weight was pretty much supported by Wolf, by then. I’m sure he was exhausted, too! And we were so close — our heads and shoulders had already cleared the top of the cliff! Don’t ask me how he managed it — but, somehow, Wolf pulled out a knife and cut the harness straps … by the time I’d realised what he was doing, he had grabbed my left wrist and flipped me over the top, and I went flying straight into a clump of bushes!”

Murata: “That was perfectly executed!”

Yuuri: “Aha? Except for the fact that he thoughtlessly placed himself in danger — that was so reckless! Urgh!!! What is it with stubborn pretty boys?!”

Murata: *Mutters* “But he’s _your_ stubborn pretty boy, though, isn’t he?”

Yuuri: “Anyway, I was pretty dazed and confused when I landed. Before my mind could process what had just happened, I heard Greta’s blood-curdling, bone-chilling scream from across the fjord! I mean, my little girl is always so brave and strong — she’s not the type to freak out, even in nightmarish situations — so, what on earth could have frightened her so badly …? I had to fight my way out of those bushes … and when I got out, I saw Wolf barely clinging on to the edge of the cliff! Apparently, he sacrificed his firm hold when flipping me over! From where I was, I could see one of his foot twisted at an odd angle — he must have twisted it when gaining leverage to make the flip or something — and his other leg had a long gash that was bleeding profusely!”

Murata: “Then came the moment of inner clarity? And you pulled him up, just as he did for you back then, right?”

Yuuri: “Um … not quite. I mean — in retrospect, yes, I suppose. But at the time — I guess you could say I was feeling an overwhelming emotion of … I don't know … devotion …? — Wolf, however, was scolding my ears off for even thinking about trying something so risky or whatever! Mind you, he was doing that while hanging off the cliff — I don't know where the heck he got all that breath to nag like that! Damn — he was so stubborn, insisting he would be fine and that he would drag himself up when he’s caught his breath or something. I ask you, how was he supposed to catch his breath if he’s nagging away like that?!”

Murata: *Laughs* “Not too unlike yourself, really!”

Yuuri: “Hey! — at any rate — I managed to get him to trust me, in the end — and … well … I finally pulled him up ….”

Murata: “And then came the hot display of hugs and kisses!” *Grins cheekily*

Yuuri: “Oh, shut up …”

Murata: “What? That _was_ what actually happened! We could see it from all the way across the fjord. I remember thinking ‘that's different’ …! A pity Lady von Spitzweg wasn’t there to witness the moment! But … you know … Shibuya, I don't think Lord von Bielefeld would have fallen off. It’s not just because I think he’s not weak, as I kept telling you even back then …. It’s also because the Flying Skeleton Tribe were somewhere around, at the ready. But then … I _do_ get that it meant something beyond what the rest of us can comprehend …. That, and the fact that you always worry _way_ too much, when it comes to your fiance!” *Winks*

Yuuri: *hesitates* “Murata …?”

Murata: “Mn? What is it, Shibuya?”

Yuuri: “You keep alluding back to that moment on the cliff, way back then …. I guess … I’m just wondering … wha—what did you think about it? I mean … you obviously see more than you let on. So, what did you make of it?”

Murata: “Shibuya, are you feeling … insecure … about our friendship, after all this time? You know I would never judge you on your choices and preferences, right? Even way back then, you’re the best friend that this soul ever had, across so many lives and all. Even if you still had no idea about my situation back then, you should know that I’m always going to support you, whatever it is.”

Yuuri: “You’re right … you’re right.” *Grins sheepishly* “I do know that. And … er … Murata…? Thank you … for everything, you know …”

Murata: “Hey, what are best friends for?” *Smiles sincerely* “That aside … since you asked about it … hmm … let’s see …”

Murata Ken is _not_ a fan of earthquakes, thunders, fires, and—! But that’s not the point — now wasn’t the time to be enumerating scary things according to that Japanese saying — though he _does_ hate boxes! And that one particular box there … if it had cost Murata his best friend … well …

It was because of that box that Shibuya had forced himself, despite the terrible risks, to summon that vast power. And now — it’s because of that box that Shibuya might have fallen off into this huge crevasse. No — I can’t lose him — not like this — just when I finally found that friend — I haven’t even told him the truth of who I am, yet!

Those were Murata’s furious thoughts, as he found himself slammed against the edge of a precipice. One second he had been rubbing Shibuya’s back and then grabbing onto his shoulders to soothe the pain of calling on those powers in such hostile human territories, next second he had found himself tumbling into a ravine that was forming at his feet. He supposed he was lucky … after dropping down a few feet, he felt the soles of his feet connect with something solid. There was a narrow rock protrusion right under his feet. Still, it wasn’t time to celebrate — anytime, that rock could crumble away, or he could lose his balance and fall off backwards — more importantly, what’s happened to Shibuya?

Then, he heard it: Shibuya’s frantic shout for Murata, coming from the fairly distant opposite side. Before Murata could shout back his response, he felt large hands clasped around his upper arms in a strong grip. Gurrier was yelling across at Shibuya, even as he was dragging Murata up from crashing down into the abyss.

Neither of them saw it coming …. The two yelling back and forth …. Gurrier had immediately focused on struggling to cross over to Shibuya’s side the very second Murata was on solid ground. Shibuya was too busy yelling out instructions for Gurrier to leave him be and take care of everyone else … to take care of Murata … until he comes back, whatever that was supposed to mean. Neither of them noticed how uncharacteristically quiet Murata had become … completely unlike his normal self … as he froze, staring. It’s a rare phenomenon indeed that ever manages to stun Murata Ken so completely.

Neither of them saw the streak of shimmering gold, like a blazing fiery comet, shooting straight for where Shibuya was clinging onto the cliff’s edge. Neither of them saw that figure, moving with inhuman grace and speed, running at full tilt, leaping over fissures, dashing determinedly for Shibuya. For just a moment there, Murata thought he had recognised … that face — that person — that ghost from the past — it was like a waking nightmare — the person that had haunted Murata’s memories, across all the countless lives his soul had experienced! He would have yelled out a sharp warning, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was alarmed it might startle Shibuya into letting go of his desperate clutch! Even as Murata watched in horror, Shibuya’s left hand was slipping off, soon followed by the fingers on his right hand.

Damn it! If that is you there — if that really is you, you had better _not_ be here to make things worse! Murata was cursing inwardly, as waves of bitter resentment threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be the same person as that guy they call the Great Sage from so many millennia ago, but if there’s anything he has in common with him, it is the dislike towards the one the Mazokus call Shinou, aside from their mutual hatred of those boxes. Even if that Daikenja and Shinou had been half siblings … even if Murata’s dislike of him stems from slightly different reasons as him … no matter what, that power hungry, cunning and controlling maniac can only mean trouble, the worst kind of trouble.

It was like his consciousness was split between abject horror of watching his best friend about to fall down into the abyss, and befuddled bafflement of trying to process the image he was seeing of that person from the past. Murata wanted to scream, as the very last of Shibuya’s perilous grip gave out—! But, just as all seemed lost … right at that crucial fraction of a second … the person Murata thought he’d recognised flung himself bodily forwards, selflessly uncaring that he might fall off himself, and grabbed hold of Shibuya’s already descending right wrist!

So close! Damn — that was so close! Just one hundredth of a second later — no — even just a thousandth of a second later, and Shibuya would have been swallowed by the abyss — and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it! Murata could feel his heart crazily beating against his chest. He might be a highly rational person of incredible brain power, but he was scared nearly out of his mind in that moment.

It was also then, in that moment when time seemed to have frozen, that his image of the person who caught Shibuya — that recognition he had registered — that recognition of all but a moment’s clarity — shattered completely. Because, there is just no way in hell — even across, through and over the vast span of time — that Shinou’s face would ever be caught, dead or alive, with that expression! So much for being a genius and what not — even with the memories of so much experiences, Murata couldn’t find an accurate … word … to describe that expression. Such an expression of … of fierce determination — of such … devotion — desperate, but yet not — acceptance, but not resignation — a raging fire, yet cool and calm in its steadiness — he looked … equal parts like he’d achieved nirvana, and at the same time like he might storm fury over heaven and hell indiscriminately …! Murata couldn’t decide if it was more awe-inspiring or terrifying to behold such a visage. And, right at the centre of all that … was Shibuya — that much was evidently clear. Looking back at it now, if he thinks about it, perhaps one word would say it all … love. Yes, that’s the only thing that makes sense … true love.

No. That was definitely _not_ Shinou. They may be uncannily similar in looks, but even before Murata saw his eyes, it was glaringly obvious they are two completely different persons, as obvious as fire is not ice — he could tell, just from the emotions this person was radiating so powerfully. And when Murata finally noticed his eyes — it wasn’t easy, even if they hadn’t been focused intently on the dangling Shibuya, since they were on opposite sides of a gaping gorge — those blazing green eyes … well … not only were they obviously of a different colour, the very light, the fire within them, were fundamentally different.

But … in all the insanities of that period of time … what Murata found most astonishing of all was Shibuya’s reactions. Even from this distance, he could see the … change. It was like the two of them over there were in a world of their own — just the two of them — where nothing else mattered, where time stood still … just for them. Another earthquake could have hit, and he doubt Shibuya would have noticed, or even cared. He could see Shibuya raising his gaze to meet the other’s, in a way that looked like he was savouring every infinite degree and angle of his vision. His body, which had been taut and tense just a few seconds ago, had lost its tension and had unconsciously gone all relaxed, as if he was confident in that person’s grasp. He thought he could see Shibuya’s eyes trace those defined features with wonder, from the fingers around his wrist, to every inch of that face and that stern smile. There’s just no other way of putting it, Shibuya was drinking in the sight with a thirst of a dying man so parched that he knew nothing of his own thirst. Despite the state of emergency he was still in then, Shibuya’s expression had cleared and was positively shining with admiration. Something in that moment was just too delicate. Even then, Murata could tell that this person means something to his best friend … something very important … even if Shibuya himself was figuring it out. Murata tried to place an exact finger on it, but …

Wait — what the heck? — seriously, they still had time to chat, exchanging words and looks like that?! It was probably no more than a couple of sentences exchanged, but Murata shot to his feet in alarm. Yo, Mr ‘Whoever You are but Not that Guy’—! Hmm, this is problematic, if he doesn’t even have a clue who the person his best friend seems to be so taken by might be …. Come to think of it, how come Shibuya haven’t mentioned someone like this to him before? OK — so he gets that Shibuya is still hiding his true identity in this world from him — but, come on, not even in casual conversations …? Like, about that hot guy he’s been checking out or something …? Not even a vague remark …? And I thought we’re best friends, Shibuya …?! Those were Murata’s thoughts, but he didn’t shout any of them out, in case he might startle one of them and Shibuya would fall, after all. But, more importantly, was that guy really sure he’s able to haul Shibuya up? He looks to be maybe comparable to Shibuya, in terms of physique … a far cry from Gurrier’s bulging muscles!

Another look between them … and then Shibuya swung his left arm overhead and caught hold, grabbing onto the other person, like a lifeline — which, in every way, it was. Apparently, looks really can be deceiving — because the guy made it look almost easy, as he pulled Shibuya up a little too enthusiastically, that he fell on his back, with Shibuya collapsed flat on top of him. Kind of amusing there, to see Shibuya flustered by the position they were in.

Next to Murata, Gurrier let out an audible sigh of relief. He must also have been rooted to the spot, breath held, desperately wanting to help, but simply could do nothing.

“Who … is that?” Murata asked quietly.

Right about then, Shibuya started shaking with sobs, and the guy had a comforting arm around him. Truth be told, Murata had to blink a little … through all the chaos they were subjected to over the past week or so, never once did Shibuya break down … always staying strong, holding it together. But now … now, it’s like he had finally reached home, after a long suffering day, to throw himself into his bedroom and was crying it all out!

“Huh?” Gurrier sounded somewhat surprised at the question … maybe he thought Murata should have known, somehow … maybe he thought Shibuya would have told him about it … or maybe he had momentarily forgotten Murata was next to him. “Oh — you mean —? Ah, that’s His Excellency the Third Son, he’s the youngest born of Her Previous Majesty the 26th Maou, and His Majesty’s f—” He had been studying their surroundings, looking for a way to get around the gorge to join them on the opposite side, while he spoke. Murata wasn’t sure if he had cut off so abruptly because he had spotted a way to circumvent the cliffs and got distracted, or because he thought it wasn’t his place to speak of his Young Master’s relationship. “Come on! Oops — careful there!”

Mmgh … not quite the explanation he was looking for — heck, he didn’t even get his name out of that! Well, he supposed he would just have to put his detective hat on, and make his own observations and come to his own conclusions, then.

It’s not that Murata was particularly suspicious of the guy …. Yeah, for now, Murata decided, he was just _the guy_ that his best friend was crushing hard on (no pun intended — no, scratch that — yeah, pun intended). It’s not his fault that no one made formal introductions. True, they were quickly caught up by the chaos that was the aftermath of the destructive earthquake caused by the End of the Land. But, still! Looking back now … to think that your own best friend didn’t even properly introduce you to his FI!—AN!—CE! — what an outrage! Shibuya, how could you…?

OK — that wasn’t being fair. Of course Murata understood Shibuya’s hesitation. Even if he wasn’t in the midst of figuring and working things out, it’s not just as simple as coming out with it to your best friend. Murata felt kind of … sad … to know his best friend was facing his own inner struggles in silence — he wanted to help, but he knew Shibuya needed to find his own way … he had to let Shibuya open up to him, of his own accord, when he’s ready.

As it was, all the introduction Murata got was a rushed, “Wolf, this is Murata — he’s my best friend — we were in the same class in our second and third years of junior high — that is middle school!” Was it his imagination, or was Shibuya almost pleading for the guy to understand…? And what’s up with that pet name — ‘Wolf’, was it…?

In the days that followed, Murata picked up that — surprise, surprise! — the guy has a name. Lord von Bielefeld Wolfram. In fact, even more than ten days later, while they were hiding in the cabin aboard the Red Sea Comet on their way to Big Shimaron, Murata had gone something like, “He’s Lord von Bielefeld, right?”. Honestly, he wasn’t about to go about calling the guy ‘Wolf’ the way Shibuya does in that cute manner!

During the next ten days or so after the devastation, Murata kept a close watch on this Lord von Bielefeld, as they made their way back to the port town of Gilbit in Caloria. He was curious to know … what kind of person this Wolf guy is … what sort of person has captured the heart of Shibuya Yuuri …? For, even if Shibuya himself hadn’t realised it at the time, he is enamoured, through and through, by this person. It did not escape Murata’s notice that, every night during their travels, Shibuya had automatically bed down beside Lord von Bielefeld without thinking about it, no matter where they were spending the night, even when they were all crashed out in the same room or space. Not that there was much to see — they merely slept close to each other — but it was like that’s his designated spot, or rather his rightful place. Mmm-hmm?

Murata needed to know if the guy was to be trusted and if he’s worthy of Shibuya’s pure heart. Not that he wanted to be a busybody, but he was determined to watch his friend’s back! Ever had that friend who would punch the person who dares hurt their best friend? Yeah. Murata is that best friend to Shibuya, even if he may not come across as fierce and protective. If this Lord von Bielefeld guy showed the slightest sign that he was unworthy — if he hurt Shibuya … he would have a terrible enemy in Murata Ken. Shibuya is a very special person to Murata — he would not have his best friend’s heart broken by this—this overly good looking former Prince.

Maybe Murata was being a bit biased and prejudiced against someone who looks so similar to that bastard Shinou. Shinou had been a notorious hard core womaniser, after all. And, yes, Murata had seemed maybe a little like a jealous best friend, purposefully provoking the proud Prince here and there when they were in Caloria, but he just wanted to observe and understand his character better. Did Shibuya realise he was doing it…? Every time Murata made a seemingly thoughtless remark towards Lord von Bielefeld, Shibuya would give him an odd look, and unconsciously press closer to the Prince’s side. He appeared to be very aware of Lord von Bielefeld’s moods and reactions.

The funny thing was, just as he was scrutinising him closely, Lord von Bielefeld was in turn wearily keeping a close watch on himself. If Murata had to guess, he’d say that Lord von Bielefeld needed to know if the Great Sage so revered by the Mazokus had any designs on his fiance, not necessarily of the romantic type; rather, whether Murata is truly what he claims to be — Shibuya’s best friend — and not a mastermind playing his twisted games, with Shibuya as the centre piece. The difference was, for the sake of appearance and propriety, Lord von Bielefeld could not openly show hostility towards him, instead falling into a cautious weariness around him. What a team they make, indeed! They were both, in their own ways, looking out for Shibuya. Go Team Shibuya!

Shibuya noticed this awkwardness, though he probably chalked it up to Lord von Bielefeld’s respect for the Great Sage or something. Whatever it was that Shibuya had thought, Murata had noticed him secretly observing the interaction between Lord von Bielefeld and himself — at least, he probably thought he was being subtle in watching his Wolf — and he seemed to think that they had some kind of understanding or other. And why was Shibuya watching them so closely, anyway? He needn’t have felt … hmm … was that early signs of … jealousy? At any rate, that wasn’t the case at all. Now that Murata has known Lord von Bielefeld for a while, he can outright say that notion was ridiculous! Sure, Lord von Bielefeld grew up hearing about the greatness of that Great Sage and all that overly glorified history, but the Prince is simply not the kind of person to blindly revere someone, just because. Ask Shibuya! Not even his double-black appearance, or his noble soul, or whatever else could stop the ‘henachoko’ nickname from flying smack straight into his face. No, Lord von Bielefeld just isn’t the kind of person who easily accepts someone lightly. Good. At least he can be counted on to always watch out for Shibuya.

So, Murata thought he’d make his overture to Shibuya, to open that conversation about Lord von Bielefeld. When they were on the Red Sea Comet and Murata had noticed Shibuya almost anxiously watching Lord von Bielefeld from across deck — maybe thinking of going over to soothe his seasick discomfort, but was far too shy to do so — Murata approached him and asked what the ‘pretty boy’ was doing, just as a conversation prompt. Figures that Shibuya would all too straightforwardly reply that he was being seasick! Seriously? Anyone could see that Lord von Bielefeld was being very violently seasick! So he tried again, this time being a little more obvious about it, and pointed out that Lord von Bielefeld really was ‘trying his very best’ …. Oh — how the heck did it end up leading to Shibuya demanding to know just who Murata is really…?! That was when Shibuya kind of lost it and was only brought back to himself when — SLAP!!! — Lord von Bielefeld delivered that reverse marriage proposal!

There were quite a bit of interesting things said by Lord von Bielefeld, at this point, and quite a bit of interesting blushing on Shibuya’s part. Murata thought it was worth noting that Shibuya never actually denied what Lord von Bielefeld said about their relationship … he simply made light half-hearted comments that were more to hide his bashfulness than anything. Whatever you say, Shibuya, it still sounds like you’re the type to confess while you’re drunk … because he just doesn’t seem like the type to openly and directly address matters of the heart — not that Shibuya drinks, mind you. With Shibuya, sometimes you have to read between the lines — the fine, almost invisible lines — and Muraken is one heck of an expert at that!

But what really stood out to Murata from that exchange was the fact that Lord von Bielefeld was not one to coddle or suck up to Shibuya. Maybe he kind of already knew that, but this slap cemented his confidence in the Lord Fiance. Ironic, really, how it happened, but that slap was what earned Murata’s respect for him.

Hence — when immediately after, they were forced to hide in the cabin while the Shimaron coastguards on patrol came checking, and Shibuya was all sulky and worried because his fiance wouldn’t hide in there with him — Murata told his friend earnestly, that Lord von Bielefeld really is not at all weak. Not that it helped soothe Shibuya’s worry, though. Who ever said Lord von Bielefeld is the only overprotective one in that relationship? Like that time in the arena, the way Shibuya had panicked upon seeing the opponent Lord von Bielefeld was going up against … sweet, but hilarious. Yeah, joke’s on him, really — didn’t even take five minutes for Lord von Bielefeld to come out victorious! And how relentlessly Shibuya worried over the injury to the back that Lord von Bielefeld got when he fell after the match …. It had gotten so, that even Murata couldn’t help but get a little concern when the Prince, heedless of his own injuries, determinedly led them to stop Shibuya’s rampage in the third round of the tournament finals. Yes, Murata has heard that Lord von Bielefeld was regarded as the ‘spoilt prince’ or the ‘selfish pooh’ … but in the time that he had known him, he’s been nothing but the selfless Prince who does everything in Shibuya’s best interest. The guy is proud and stubborn, yes, and a true tsundere to boot — but fiercely loyal and whole-heartedly devoted to Shibuya … and Murata knows he can count on him to always, _always_ be there for Shibuya.

For Murata, it was strange and bitter-sweet, watching his best friend … fall in love, for lack of a better term. Truth is … if Shibuya has been falling in to the abyss that is love, he sure as heck never hit the bottom … it’s more like he’s flying off into the infinite space, up there with the stars and moon and sun … at least, that’s how it seems to Murata. Shibuya is always a considerate friend — he’s never made Murata feel like the third wheel or anything like that. But … well …

And … Murata had watched some of the tenderest moments between the two … his best friend and his, erm, best friend-in-law …? Not just the huge moments, like that incident off the cliff, or their worrying and fussing over each other … but also quiet moments. Like the time when Shibuya had Lord von Bielefeld curl up against him to sleep, while they were camping out … or that intensely charged moment in the arena when Flynn Gilbit’s life was on the line …. All that quiet yearning so clearly burning between them …. All that longing … even if somewhat unconsciously, mostly on Shibuya’s part …. It almost seems so long ago now … but even in the months that followed … all those heart-warming … those soul-stirring … those tear-jerking … —!

Yuuri: “Wait — wait, wait, wait! Murata — how old are you, really? Grandpa Muraken, please don’t reminisce like that! You sound kind of like my Mom and my Old Man, when they’re being all sentimental, and you just know they’re going to intentionally embarrass the crap out of Shouri and me!”

Murata: “You earned it, you know!” *Laughs* “Just how many almost kisses — giant crappy emphasist on ‘almost’ — did I have to suffer through?! Damn, the anticipation and disappointment were killing me! It’s almost the worst cliffhangers ever!”

Yuuri: “Hey!”

Murata: “Sometimes, I really wanted to just whack this overly tentative Shibuya Yuuri Harajuku Fuuri upside the head!”

Yuuri: “Hmm — but that would make you that monkey from Disney’s ‘The Lion King’ …”

Murata: “And you would be the Lion King Simba …”

Yuuri: “Well, I _do_ like lions — specifically white lions — but anything to do with lions would do, really!”

Murata: “Yeah, Seibu Lions all the way, right? But, just because my family runs the M-Family Guesthouse (where all the rooms are named after something that begins with the alphabet ‘M’) doesn’t mean that I want to be associated with that _mandrill_ —”

Yuuri: “Eh? A mandrill? Is that the name of the species? I always thought he was a baboon …”

Murata: “Nope, that’s a mandrill or mandrillus sphinx — and, no, before you say it, don’t go chalking it up to my elite education that I am able to tell that that monkey is no mere baboon!”

Yuuri: “Ah, it even has ‘sphinx’ in it’s scientific name…! Aren’t sphinxes famous for being all wise and clever and sort of mysterious? Quite fitting, huh? Since, in that story, he’s the wise man — erm — wise monkey…?”

Murata: “Never mind that the monkey is the wise character — to think that I would be compared to him …”

Yuuri: “Why not? He’s a great character! Oh — is it because of the wise part? You don’t like it when you are compared or associated with the Great Sage from history, right? That’s OK, then — you’re Shibuya Yuuri Whatever Harajuku Fuuri’s best friend, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Murata: *Looks touched* “You’re the only one who understands me like that ….” *Grips Yuuri’s shoulders briefly* “Ah … but if it’s just for the laugh of it, why not? Hmm … Murata, the Great Wise Man … Murata, the Great Wise Monkey … that’s just terrible! But — wait — that’s actually quite funny — to think that Shinou was taking strategy advice from a monkey!!!”

Yuuri: “Uh!” *Laughs* “Talk about monkey business!”

Murata: “Yeah … wonder how Lord von Christ would take it, if he knew we’re making monkey fun at his beloved Shinou! Speaking of monkey business — though, I suppose this isn’t really all that monkey — have you seen today’s Shin Nichi Daily Report?”

Yuuri: “No! And I don’t want to! I’m still sore about that! I mean, I didn’t know that ‘Regional Poncho’ guy was going to be intruding on our vacation!!! Ah — that sounds uncharitable of me — but, it was _supposed_ to be a _private_ vacation! I probably wouldn’t mind too much if he were there to join us for vacation … but not for him to intrude on business like that!”

Murata: “Reginald Ponchack? Well, he is a reporter for the Shin Nichi from the Karbelnikoff branch office, you know. Lord von Karbelnikoff did ask him to publish an article to advertise cliff-top holidays, as initiated by the Maou, after all. And besides, he was only there for a couple of hours, to get a feel of what he was going to write and publish about.”

Yuuri: “And it just so happened to be that window of time when we were cliff climbing!”

Murata: “He wanted to see for himself the activities done on cliff holidays.”

Yuuri: “Yeah, but—”

Murata: “He didn’t plan on witnessing that intimate moment, specifically. No one did! Even you had no idea that was going to happen. Besides, you were just kissing — super heatedly, for sure — but your make out session didn’t get too far before the Flying Skeleton Tribe carried aid over to help you. So, you shouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Yuuri: “Like I’ve said already, it’s not that I’m ashamed or anything like that. It’s just — how do I put this? — I don’t like my private moments with Wolf exposed to public scrutiny. There are … certain things … that should be only between the two of us … you know … certain things about him … only … only I should know … and vice versa.” *Blushes and covers face*

Murata: “Yeah, I know …” *Pats Yuuri’s shoulder* “That’s why I think you should see this.”

Yuuri: “No … no, I don't think so. I hear the quality of the latest psychic photographs is only getting better and better! And there’s no telling how scandalous the article would make it out to be! I know there’s no stopping publicity, and I know you’ll probably say that no one would take it all too seriously … but still, people read about it, and I’m powerless to protect—! Eh? What’s this?” *Stares in surprise at the newspaper* “Th—this front page picture isn’t of Wolf and me, but … Gwen and Conrad?! N—not that I’m complaining — but — hah?!” *Looks confused*

Murata: “That’s why I told you to take a look. See, it’s the picture of when Lord von Voltaire and Lord Weller partnered up to go on the first round for all the cliff activities to test them out, before they would allow Lord von Bielefeld and you to take your turns! Don’t they look just adorable, cuddled up together like that? Such brotherly affections!”

Yuuri: “Ah … yeah … aww, they do look kind of sweet … guess it’s so rare that the brothers get to be openly affectionate like that! This one here is the picture of them clinging on to each other while they were cliff swinging, right? I can’t be sure, but I seem to recall that Gwendal isn’t very good with heights. Wait a minute … even the article is about the brotherly love and affection the Kingdom never knew — and the only mention of Wolf and me is how I am treated as a brother already, and how the two older brothers would do anything to ensure their little ones are safe and well, hence why they were willing to take on the cliff challenges before us…! Now I see why Wolf insisted he wanted to keep and frame up a copy of this! This is really too touching, Murata …. Did you have anything to do with it? I was so sure they would publish something embarrassing about Wolf and me — I mean, Regional Poncho just would not shut up about that scene!”

Murata: *Grins* “I’m only partially responsible, I’m afraid. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling so pleased about it … but, this way, everyone is happy, right? You get to keep those precious moments private, the people get their juicy inside scoop, and Lord von Karbelnikoff gets his premium advertisement out there! I knew how uncomfortable you were about the whole thing, you see. You and I both know we won’t be able to stop all publicity about the Royal Couple — freedom of press, right? — but I thought that it would be nice, just this once, to keep it private. So, I came up with the plan to … ah … change the article. After all, I am aware that this vacation means a great deal to the both of you.”

Yuuri: *Grips Murata’s forearm* “Murata, you’re the best ever best friend, you know!”

Murata: *Laughs* “Credit where credit is due, it was Gurrier who infiltrated the Shin Nichi office to destroy the original, Lord von Voltaire who wrote the article, Lord Weller who convinced the press to publish this version without adding their twists … ah, and Lord von Christ who provided the psychic photograph! Oh — and also, it was Princess Greta who suggested the subject of the article! Eh? Shibuya? Why are you tearing up? I know you’re touched … but it should be making you happy, right?”

Yuuri: “W—what are you talking about? Of course I’m happy! But — wow! Wolf and I are so lucky to have all of you as part of our family … you know …”

Murata: “Ah, Shibuya! Now you’ve made my glasses fogged up, too! No, no … this won’t do. We should be laughing until our stomachs hurt, right? Come on, cheer up already! Think about the delicious barbecue we’re having tonight! Mmm! Isn’t your sexy mother-in-law to be also joining us? I’m sure the three brothers would enjoy that very much! And didn’t I hear your beloved Lord von Bielefeld promising us a spectacular firework show after it gets dark?”

Yuuri: “Ah, yes. It’s going to be literal ‘fire’ works, you know … but I think it might just be far more impressive and spectacular than the fanciest fireworks we get on Earth…! He’s determine to outshine the ones Anissina made with Gwendal in them!”

Murata: “Wow! Lady von Karbelnikoff’s fireworks were pretty darn impressive, weren’t they? If he’s competing against that, it sounds like he’s planning something big! I’m excited — can’t wait to see them!”

Yuuri: “Right? Right? Ah, but — it just crossed my mind — that means he’s going to exhaust a huge amount of magical energy, isn’t he? Huh, I’d better go get him back to our room and make him take a good rest before tonight, then!”

Murata: “Right! Get going, then!” *Claps Yuuri on the back*

Yuuri: “Yup, I’ll be going now!” *Gets up to leave* “Oh, and, Murata?”

Murata: “Yeah?”

Yuuri: *Spreads arms wide in a grand gesture* “Everyone! This has been your Mura-Mura Murakenzu! Together, now, Muraken!”

Murata: *Grins happily* “Eh? I thought you’d never ask! All right — three, two, one —!”

Yuuri and Murata: “DUM-DUM-DUM!!!”

Murata: “And that’s all from today’s special insight with Murakenzu! Be sure to check out some cliff holidays, the next time you and your loved ones go on vacation! Oh, and — before I forget — if you happen to be stuck under the Covid-19 circumstances, make sure to stay safe and be a comfort to each other! Until next time!” *Bows*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah...! Now I really want that holiday!!!  
> Here's to 2021, and hoping things will turn out for the better! And to a whole lot more of joy for our favourite Royal Couple!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comes with a Murakenzu Insight afterwards.


End file.
